The process of moving to South Africa was not easy. It was logistically challenging. The visa business was frustrating and caused a lot of angst. However, when I think back to that time, right before we left the USA and came to South Africa, my most prominent emotion was excitement. We were about to embark on a new life and I couldn't wait to get started. We laughed off the delays and challenges. It was all a big adventure.
Leaving South Africa does not feel like an adventure. It feels awful. I would love to put a positive spin on it for you and say something like, "onward and upward" or "change is good" but I can't. What I can say is, "I'm sure it will be fine." That's the best I can do. But I'm not a huge fan of fine. I prefer amazing.
Intellectually my sadness about leaving makes no sense. How can it be harder to leave a country where I've lived for just over two years than it was to leave a country where I'd lived my entire life? How can it be harder to leave a place where things don't work all that well for a place where everything works? What could possibly be so difficult about going back to America where everyone will understand me when I speak and where I can eat tacos and drink Starbucks with reckless abandon? Not to mention being closer to family and friends. Side note, what is wrong with me that I listed tacos before mentioning family and friends?
When we arrived in South Africa, our relocation agent gave us a book called "Living in South Africa." Of course I never actually READ this book, but the point is there WAS A BOOK about newly arrived expat adjustment. So where is the handbook that details best practises for expats trying to depart a place gracefully? Because I have a lot of questions.
Some of the questions are trivial, yet real. How will I survive without the constant sunshine, palm trees and smiling security guards who greet me every morning and then ask me to buy them a 2 litre Coke and loaf of bread? How will I manage without my clean house and my perfectly ironed and folded clothes made so by the world's kindest and sweetest person? What about the kids that I teach? Will they forget about me after five minutes (answer is yes being that they are eight years old.) Most importantly, how am I supposed to say goodbye to all the people here who I love...my second family, some of whom, if I'm being honest with myself, I may never see again.
Mr. Deep has gone already. He is in Geneva working on a project for the next few months. While I am here alone for what simultaneously feels like forever and not nearly long enough, he was "ripped out of here." Maybe that was the way to go? To leave quickly. Maybe I should have gone with him? Maybe I should have insisted on being an excellent wife and standing by my man, literally. I wonder what the non-existent expat departure handbook would have suggested I do?
I have watched other expat friends leave over the years. Some were life long expats and some were not. All were very stoic and said things like, "here's to the next adventure" which leads me to wonder, is that how they really felt? Maybe they were ready to leave and could barely contain their excitement? Maybe South Africa was getting to them and they were tired of trying to find spare change every minute for car guards, constantly sitting in traffic because of broken traffic lights, and having to visit three stores each time they wanted to buy kale? Or maybe it was breaking their hearts to leave and in the privacy of their own homes they cried a lot and got drunk every night under the guise of having to drink all of their South African wine before the movers arrived? It's hard to know.
The thing about expat life is when it's time to go it's time go whether you want to or not and conversely for some who wish to leave it's not time to go and they have to stay. This is what we all signed on for. I guess if there were an expat departure handbook, that is what it would say. It would be a very short book.
Showing posts with label Car guards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Car guards. Show all posts
Friday, June 2, 2017
Thursday, September 29, 2016
I've Got Issues
When I first began writing this blog I planned to write about two main topics, our new life in South Africa and my dramatically changed life due to no longer working.
Since then pretty much every post has been about our lives and experiences in South Africa. I only mention my not working here and there. There's a reason for this. It's amazing not to work. Sorry but it's true. I have drafted many posts that remain unpublished about my non working life and it always comes out sounding like bragging. It would be like if I wrote a post about how I never have to clean my own house. No one wants to hear it. People do not want to sit in a cubicle at work and read a blog post about how great it is not to be working. So I have avoided the topic.
But now that I've broached the subject, I want to focus on something that I've learned about myself during this time of not working. When I worked, as outlined in this post, I blamed most of my problems in life on my job. If I was short with my husband it was because I was stressed out at work, if I didn't make it to the gym it's because I was too busy at work, if I declined a social invitation it was because I was too tired from work. You get the idea.
Now there is no work but yet most of my problems are still with me (except my hair has grown back so that's a good thing.) Yes work exacerbated certain traits or behaviors but my issues remain. One of the things that I have realized about myself is that I am often annoyed. I'm not angry - there is a difference. But I am easily annoyed.
In the draft version of this post I listed an entire paragraph of things that annoy me. But when Mr. Deep, my editor, read it he said it sounded like venting. So I will only list five things that annoy me here. If you wish to have the full and original list just let me know and I will send to you.
I'm annoyed when people are late. I'm annoyed when I'm late. I'm annoyed by dogs that bark constantly. I'm annoyed when Mr. Deep cooks food and uses way more plates, pots, pans and utensils than necessary and then leaves all of the above for me to clean up. And, I'm annoyed by people who are rude to waitstaff.
Living in South Africa makes me more aware of my annoyance problem as I am aware that most of the things that I let annoy me are ridiculous. While I am muttering under my breath about how stupid I think those baby on board signs that people hang on their car windows are, other people, who have real problems, such as no money and no food seem to be genuinely not annoyed and jolly. How do they do it?
I asked Charles about it because I know, as a car guard, people are rude to him all the time. And if someone is rude to me I find it (you guessed it) annoying. He said that rudeness doesn't bother him. I pushed him on it because how can it not be annoying (and painful) when people treat you poorly and talk down to you when you are just trying to eek out a living and survive? He told me that once he said good morning to a guy and the man replied "F%&# you." I'm sorry what? I would be so annoyed. No, I'd be furious. I would probably reply "F%&# you too." As an aside I would make a horrible car guard. Charles said when people are rude to him he says, "thank you God. I see you." What does that even mean? How does that work? I have a lot to learn.
Since then pretty much every post has been about our lives and experiences in South Africa. I only mention my not working here and there. There's a reason for this. It's amazing not to work. Sorry but it's true. I have drafted many posts that remain unpublished about my non working life and it always comes out sounding like bragging. It would be like if I wrote a post about how I never have to clean my own house. No one wants to hear it. People do not want to sit in a cubicle at work and read a blog post about how great it is not to be working. So I have avoided the topic.
But now that I've broached the subject, I want to focus on something that I've learned about myself during this time of not working. When I worked, as outlined in this post, I blamed most of my problems in life on my job. If I was short with my husband it was because I was stressed out at work, if I didn't make it to the gym it's because I was too busy at work, if I declined a social invitation it was because I was too tired from work. You get the idea.
Now there is no work but yet most of my problems are still with me (except my hair has grown back so that's a good thing.) Yes work exacerbated certain traits or behaviors but my issues remain. One of the things that I have realized about myself is that I am often annoyed. I'm not angry - there is a difference. But I am easily annoyed.
In the draft version of this post I listed an entire paragraph of things that annoy me. But when Mr. Deep, my editor, read it he said it sounded like venting. So I will only list five things that annoy me here. If you wish to have the full and original list just let me know and I will send to you.
I'm annoyed when people are late. I'm annoyed when I'm late. I'm annoyed by dogs that bark constantly. I'm annoyed when Mr. Deep cooks food and uses way more plates, pots, pans and utensils than necessary and then leaves all of the above for me to clean up. And, I'm annoyed by people who are rude to waitstaff.
Living in South Africa makes me more aware of my annoyance problem as I am aware that most of the things that I let annoy me are ridiculous. While I am muttering under my breath about how stupid I think those baby on board signs that people hang on their car windows are, other people, who have real problems, such as no money and no food seem to be genuinely not annoyed and jolly. How do they do it?
I asked Charles about it because I know, as a car guard, people are rude to him all the time. And if someone is rude to me I find it (you guessed it) annoying. He said that rudeness doesn't bother him. I pushed him on it because how can it not be annoying (and painful) when people treat you poorly and talk down to you when you are just trying to eek out a living and survive? He told me that once he said good morning to a guy and the man replied "F%&# you." I'm sorry what? I would be so annoyed. No, I'd be furious. I would probably reply "F%&# you too." As an aside I would make a horrible car guard. Charles said when people are rude to him he says, "thank you God. I see you." What does that even mean? How does that work? I have a lot to learn.
Sunday, September 11, 2016
The Mother of Invention
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| Charles and me |
These flip flops were about three years old. They served a good purpose and I was not particularly upset that one broke because they had a good run, but I was inconvenienced. At the time of the breakage I was in a parking lot. I had just finished chatting with my friend Charles (pronounced to rhyme with house) a car guard who works in the shopping centre across the street from where we live. I have known Charles since we moved here and I see him several times a week. I know all about his life and his family because of our many chats. I have given him some (nice) old clothes that belonged to Mr. Deep and I have also bought him some groceries a few times. I had just said goodbye to Charles and when I tried to walk away, the plastic piece between the toes broke. It didn't just come out of the hole, it actually broke in two. The flat, nail head like piece that sits under the hole in the bottom of the sole broke off the stalk like piece that goes between the toes.
"My shoe just broke" I told Charles, mostly because I felt I had to explain why I was stumbling around. I showed him the shoe and he kindly offered to try to fix it for me so I left the flip flops with him. Luckily, as I mentioned, I was at the shopping centre at the time and I walked (barefoot obviously) to a store that fortunately sold flip flops and I bought a new pair.
Walking barefoot isn't so strange in South Africa but you don't often see adults doing it. And, I had two reasons for being in the shopping centre. I was getting a manicure and then I needed to get a few things at the grocery store. I wouldn't have minded going to the nail salon without any shoes. I am in there often enough and I would have explained what happened and gotten a few laughs over it, but the grocery store could have been problematic. Not that there is a no shirt, no shoes, no service rule here, there isn't. But you generally don't see barefoot adults in the grocery store. Barefoot kids are seen all the time.
When I got back to my car I saw Charles again and proudly showed him my new shoes. I was feeling pretty good that I was at a shopping centre at the time of the break, that in the shopping centre was a store that sold flip flops and that the store was open and had flip flops in my size.
And then Charles told me that he had fixed my shoe. He somehow found a piece of strong wire and threaded it through the plastic stalk. The wire, placed on the bottom of the shoe was now holding the plastic piece in place. "How did you do this?" I asked him, meaning, how did you happen to find a piece of strong wire in the parking lot? And, even if one was lucky enough to find wire, threading it through thick plastic must have been difficult.
"I used my brain" he said.
This incident, although kind of silly, perfectly communicates what it is that I love about living in South Africa. I love that I can walk barefoot if I have to and people just have to deal with it. I love that I have a friend who is so kind that he would want to try to fix my shoe for me. I love that he was actually able to fix it. But mostly I love being reminded how many people in this world live differently than we do. They can't (and won't) throw something away just because it is broken and damaged but instead they will try to fix it.
I will continue to wear my newly repaired flip flops. Granted, I will only wear them around the house because they certainly will break again, but I will wear them until that time and when I wear them I will be reminded of Charles, his life, his brain, and his kindness.
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Tuesday, July 5, 2016
Things That Make You Go WTH
"I'm taking what they giving cause I'm working for a living."
-Huey Lewis
I hope you are not too disappointed to find that this post isn't about our trip. I will continue to share our amazing adventures in Botswana and Zambia shortly.
I once read that one of the hardest parts of expat life is being a "fish out of water." This means that when you live in your home country, you are used to your surroundings. You may not like everything that you see and experience but it's the way it's always been so much goes unnoticed.
When you move to a new country the water that surrounds you (remember you're pretending to be a fish) is different and you notice everything. Living in South Africa a lot of what I notice is sad and puzzling. I often see things and think that I understand the situation but I also doubt my conclusions because I'm not from here and what do I know?
This week, we are having the exterior of our house painted. As it is the outside that is being painted the workers are not in my way but I do feel inconvenienced as I feel I need to be home while they are here working. The reason is the bathroom. I am worried that these guys will need to use the bathroom and I can't leave the house unlocked if I am not here because of the millions of horror stories I have heard about theft and crime. As head of Ops I am responsible for keeping the house safe and secure. Mr. Deep does not want to come home and find that his computer has been stolen because I found it necessary to run out to get my nails done.
It is awkward to have people working at the house and to behave in such a manner that clearly illustrates that I don't trust them. When I want to leave the house I go outside and tell the workers that I am leaving and that I have to lock the door and ask them if any of them want to use the bathroom before I go. I think part of the reason I didn't have children is because I don't find enjoyment in asking people if they want to use the bathroom. It's just not a fun conversation.
Today I was out for three hours and while I was gone I was worried about the workers and the bathroom situation even though I gave everyone fair warning before I left. Also, because I've been on this planet for 45 years I know that most men don't really care if there is a bathroom around if you know what I mean. And it's not like we have a huge garden/lawn where someone could walk a few meters away from the house and use a tree. If someone is "going" outside they are still near the house so my concern is partially selfish.
Back in the USA I did not give two seconds of thought to workers and their bathroom needs. Most of the time when we were having projects done at home I was at work myself and I didn't even see the workers except maybe to let them in each morning. I don't remember if I was concerned about people stealing. Maybe I took the time to hide a few valuables or to lock certain rooms? One big difference is that in U.S. workers would arrive at the house by car so they could come and go as they pleased throughout the day. If they were working outside and no one was home and the house was locked they could get in their cars and go somewhere to use the bathroom or get water or food or whatever. The painters working at my house here are dropped off in the morning and picked up in the afternoon by their boss They have no transportation. My bathroom is their only option.
When I first arrived in Joburg, I assumed that people who had proper jobs were quite fortunate given the high unemployment rate in the country. To clarify by proper job I don't mean Christine's part time job cleaning my house twice a week and I don't mean car guards who work for tips and have to pay for the privilege of working. By proper job I mean guys like painters, full time domestic workers, security guards, etc. However what I have come to learn is that most of these people are still painfully poor even though they appear to have
"good jobs."
There is a security guard who works in our complex who lives in a shack without electricity, heat or running water. Maybe it is his choice to live this way so he can send the maximum amount of money he earns home to his wife and two kids who live in another province but it is shocking to realize that someone with a seemingly coveted full time job finds it necessary to live in such conditions. Also, I am willing to bet I am the only resident who knows where he lives. Because I think I might be the only one who ever asked him.
There is also a gardener who works across the street at a neighbor's house (not the neighbors whose house went to on Christmas Day, another house) and I often see him standing on a garbage pail (the kind with a big lid that is on wheels) to reach the top of the small trees that he is trimming. More than once I thought about offering him a step ladder to use. I have to assume that the people he works for don't know that he stands on the pail for surely they would agree that it is incredibly unsafe. Or maybe they do know and they just don't care.
In addition to the bathroom situation I feel sorry for the guys painting our house because of their equipment. One of their ladders seems to be held together with wire and fabric and their broom, while not unsafe, it just pitiful. Is the painting business so slow that a new broom cannot be purchased?
The reason I am writing this post now is because a few days ago I came home and saw the painters sitting out front taking a lunch break. Only they weren't eating. It certainly could be that they had already eaten but there was no sign of food and I hadn't seen any of them eat or drink anything on any of the days prior. So I offered them some food and they accepted. As desperate and poor as these guys are I think that if they had already eaten they would have declined the food but they accepted it and so I kept bringing out more and they ate it all. And from then on each day I have been giving them lunch because I personally can't imagine going all day without eating.
And because I'm a fish out of water I can't help thinking that I could be wrong about all of this as everyone else is going about their business acting like everything is fine. Does the painting boss not know or not care that his guys don't eat during the day? Does he think the ladder is fine and is proud of the efforts to make it last? Or maybe the guys had already eaten and they were just being polite. Or maybe they eat a big breakfast and like to skip lunch and now they are annoyed because I keep feeding them and they are feeling sluggish all afternoon? Maybe it's fine to stand on a garbage can if you have good balance and have been doing so for years without incident? Maybe the security guard is happy to live in a shack? Or, maybe the workers are starving and scared that the ladder is going to break one day. Maybe the security guard is miserable and freezing. Perhaps the gardener will be injured one day when he falls from the can. I'll just keep swimming.
-Huey Lewis
I hope you are not too disappointed to find that this post isn't about our trip. I will continue to share our amazing adventures in Botswana and Zambia shortly.
I once read that one of the hardest parts of expat life is being a "fish out of water." This means that when you live in your home country, you are used to your surroundings. You may not like everything that you see and experience but it's the way it's always been so much goes unnoticed.
When you move to a new country the water that surrounds you (remember you're pretending to be a fish) is different and you notice everything. Living in South Africa a lot of what I notice is sad and puzzling. I often see things and think that I understand the situation but I also doubt my conclusions because I'm not from here and what do I know?
This week, we are having the exterior of our house painted. As it is the outside that is being painted the workers are not in my way but I do feel inconvenienced as I feel I need to be home while they are here working. The reason is the bathroom. I am worried that these guys will need to use the bathroom and I can't leave the house unlocked if I am not here because of the millions of horror stories I have heard about theft and crime. As head of Ops I am responsible for keeping the house safe and secure. Mr. Deep does not want to come home and find that his computer has been stolen because I found it necessary to run out to get my nails done.
It is awkward to have people working at the house and to behave in such a manner that clearly illustrates that I don't trust them. When I want to leave the house I go outside and tell the workers that I am leaving and that I have to lock the door and ask them if any of them want to use the bathroom before I go. I think part of the reason I didn't have children is because I don't find enjoyment in asking people if they want to use the bathroom. It's just not a fun conversation.
Today I was out for three hours and while I was gone I was worried about the workers and the bathroom situation even though I gave everyone fair warning before I left. Also, because I've been on this planet for 45 years I know that most men don't really care if there is a bathroom around if you know what I mean. And it's not like we have a huge garden/lawn where someone could walk a few meters away from the house and use a tree. If someone is "going" outside they are still near the house so my concern is partially selfish.
Back in the USA I did not give two seconds of thought to workers and their bathroom needs. Most of the time when we were having projects done at home I was at work myself and I didn't even see the workers except maybe to let them in each morning. I don't remember if I was concerned about people stealing. Maybe I took the time to hide a few valuables or to lock certain rooms? One big difference is that in U.S. workers would arrive at the house by car so they could come and go as they pleased throughout the day. If they were working outside and no one was home and the house was locked they could get in their cars and go somewhere to use the bathroom or get water or food or whatever. The painters working at my house here are dropped off in the morning and picked up in the afternoon by their boss They have no transportation. My bathroom is their only option.
When I first arrived in Joburg, I assumed that people who had proper jobs were quite fortunate given the high unemployment rate in the country. To clarify by proper job I don't mean Christine's part time job cleaning my house twice a week and I don't mean car guards who work for tips and have to pay for the privilege of working. By proper job I mean guys like painters, full time domestic workers, security guards, etc. However what I have come to learn is that most of these people are still painfully poor even though they appear to have
"good jobs."
There is a security guard who works in our complex who lives in a shack without electricity, heat or running water. Maybe it is his choice to live this way so he can send the maximum amount of money he earns home to his wife and two kids who live in another province but it is shocking to realize that someone with a seemingly coveted full time job finds it necessary to live in such conditions. Also, I am willing to bet I am the only resident who knows where he lives. Because I think I might be the only one who ever asked him.
There is also a gardener who works across the street at a neighbor's house (not the neighbors whose house went to on Christmas Day, another house) and I often see him standing on a garbage pail (the kind with a big lid that is on wheels) to reach the top of the small trees that he is trimming. More than once I thought about offering him a step ladder to use. I have to assume that the people he works for don't know that he stands on the pail for surely they would agree that it is incredibly unsafe. Or maybe they do know and they just don't care.
In addition to the bathroom situation I feel sorry for the guys painting our house because of their equipment. One of their ladders seems to be held together with wire and fabric and their broom, while not unsafe, it just pitiful. Is the painting business so slow that a new broom cannot be purchased?
The reason I am writing this post now is because a few days ago I came home and saw the painters sitting out front taking a lunch break. Only they weren't eating. It certainly could be that they had already eaten but there was no sign of food and I hadn't seen any of them eat or drink anything on any of the days prior. So I offered them some food and they accepted. As desperate and poor as these guys are I think that if they had already eaten they would have declined the food but they accepted it and so I kept bringing out more and they ate it all. And from then on each day I have been giving them lunch because I personally can't imagine going all day without eating.
And because I'm a fish out of water I can't help thinking that I could be wrong about all of this as everyone else is going about their business acting like everything is fine. Does the painting boss not know or not care that his guys don't eat during the day? Does he think the ladder is fine and is proud of the efforts to make it last? Or maybe the guys had already eaten and they were just being polite. Or maybe they eat a big breakfast and like to skip lunch and now they are annoyed because I keep feeding them and they are feeling sluggish all afternoon? Maybe it's fine to stand on a garbage can if you have good balance and have been doing so for years without incident? Maybe the security guard is happy to live in a shack? Or, maybe the workers are starving and scared that the ladder is going to break one day. Maybe the security guard is miserable and freezing. Perhaps the gardener will be injured one day when he falls from the can. I'll just keep swimming.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Lessons
Gift is the first friend that I've had in my life with whom I have nothing in common. We are from different continents and hemispheres. We are not the same color, gender, religion or age. We do not have the same level of education or the same hobbies. All we have in common is that we are both human and we both came to live in South Africa from somewhere else.
A few weeks ago I took Gift to see his first movie, the latest James Bond. If you have seen a Bond movie then you know the formula used. The movie starts with an action sequence to get your attention and then goes into the opening credits. When the opening credits began, Gift asked me if the movie was over.
On the one year anniversary of our arrival in South Africa, I showed Gift a photo of the plane that Mr. Deep and I flew in from JFK to here. He asked me, "how can you take a photo of the plane whilst you are inside it?"
It is remarkable to meet an adult who has never been to a movie or to an airport. The reason that Gift has never done these things is not because he belongs to an Amish like religious sect (he doesn't) or because he grew up in a remote African village wearing a loin cloth (he didn't - he grew up in a city wearing regular clothes.) It's because all of his life he's been too poor to participate in much of what the world has to offer. Because he lives in modern society he's fully aware that restaurants, movie theaters and planes exist. He knows that other people are enjoying these things but he has never been behind the secret doors to see exactly what goes on inside. And because of his inability to participate, he has told me that sometimes he has felt, "that he was not a person."
Gift is amazed by experiences that I barely give thought to and upon reflection don't appreciate nearly enough. The borderline crappy movie theater that we went to he said was "lovely." When we ate fast food at Sausage Saloon (yes there's a place called Sausage Saloon and I can't believe I ate there either) he proudly announced that it was his second time ever eating in a restaurant. When we went bowling and he scored a strike he screamed with excitement and jumped up and down with unmitigated enthusiasm. He told Mr. Deep and me, "because of you guys I am now seeing the world" and also said, "I am now getting used to having fun."
Don't assume that Gift has led a simple life because of all the things he hasn't done. Gift has had many life experiences that we cannot imagine. And sadly, a lot of what he has experienced over the years is a great deal of suffering.
Among the challenges that Gift has endured are times when he did not have enough to eat. When he lived in Zimbabwe he would try to eat the small amount of food that he did have in little bits throughout the day to stave off hunger. Sometimes he had to go to bed hungry because he ran out of food before the day was over. He told Mr. Deep and me that in Zimbabwe "there is no life" and he said that one of the reasons he is scared to go back there is because he is "afraid of starving."
The suffering and the starving have shaped Gift as a person. He talks to Mr. Deep and me about his painful past openly and freely because in order to get to know him it's important that we understand. In America it seems like people try to hide their poorness and no one wants to admit it if they are struggling. But in Africa if you ask people about their lives they will tell you and when they do, you often can hardly believe what you are hearing.
The suffering and the starving have shaped Gift as a person. He talks to Mr. Deep and me about his painful past openly and freely because in order to get to know him it's important that we understand. In America it seems like people try to hide their poorness and no one wants to admit it if they are struggling. But in Africa if you ask people about their lives they will tell you and when they do, you often can hardly believe what you are hearing.
A few times Gift mentioned to us that he was interested in learning how to play the game of pool. I have no idea how he knows about pool. Maybe he saw something about it on TV. Mr. Deep is a pretty good pool player and he agreed to teach Gift how to play. Last weekend we went to a pool hall for the lesson. I have to digress here for a moment and say that before the pool lesson I never watched Mr. Deep formally teach anyone anything before. I realized as I was watching that Mr. Deep is a really excellent teacher. He was very thorough and patient. He took the teaching seriously and showed Gift everything from how to choose a pool cue up to and including the newly learned rules of bump bump. As I watched, I thought of the many times over the years that Mr. Deep has tried to teach me things (how to play pool included) and how those lessons unfortunately usually resulted in me getting mad at him because for some reason I don't like him (or anyone else - but especially him) telling me what to do. I feel badly about this because there are many things Mr. Deep can teach me and I probably could have learned a lot over the years if I was a little more open minded and accepting.
After pool we took Gift out for dinner at Hooters. You probably think that is a funny choice in dining but we wanted to go somewhere casual and fun. We explained to Gift that Hooters is from America and that the food we were eating was American food. We ordered chicken wings and some other finger foods to share. At first, I thought maybe Gift didn't like the wings because he was eating very, very slowly. Meanwhile, Mr. Deep and I were busy eating our wings in a manner the opposite of slowly. When we were all finished both Mr. Deep and I noticed Gift's plate. He had eaten every part of the chicken that was possibly edible, including all of the smaller bones, the joints, the tendons, the wing tips and the cartilage. All that remained on his plate were four individual bones each about the width of a chopstick and the length of a toothpick. Looking at the plate you could not tell that he had eaten wings as the bones no longer resembled chicken wing bones at all. Across the table, the plate that Mr. Deep and I used for our bones was piled high with portions of the wings that we considered to be inedible. I wondered if Gift noticed our plate and was shocked to see that we wasted so much food.
After we dropped Gift off at home, Mr. Deep and I talked about the bones. Later that night, we talked about the bones. Over the weekend we talked about the bones some more. Even days later the image of the bones is embedded in our minds.
People can tell you things about themselves and you can think that you understand but sometimes it takes an illustration before you really get it. We now have a glimpse into the suffering that Gift has faced and has tried to tell us about. Right now, Gift is okay. He is not starving. But he still doesn't have an extra bit of anything to waste. In his entire life he never has.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
The D word
"You get what you put in and people get what they deserve
Still I ain't seen mine, no I ain't seen mine
I've been givin' but just ain't gettin' I've been walkin' that thin line
So I think I'll keep a walking with my head held high" - Kid Rock, Only God Knows Why
When you were a kid did your mom have a specific saying or rule for life that she repeated to you over and over? Mr. Deep's mom used to say, "you buttered your bread, now sleep on it." My friend's mom used to say "if you're bored you're boring."
Actually Mr. Deep's mom didn't exactly say "you buttered your bread now sleep on it." But she was known for saying both "you buttered your bread now eat it" and "you made your bed now sleep in it" and Mr. Deep being quite hilarious, even at a young age, changed it to "you buttered your bread, now sleep on it."
I wonder in this day of of bounce house birthday parties are moms are still imparting these one line snippets of wisdom onto their children?
My mom's words of wisdom were, "life's not fair." And of course she was correct.
The thing about life not being fair is that we all know it, but time after time we keep forgetting and repeatedly becoming outraged, disappointed and upset when unfair things happen. Meanwhile, we are more than happy to congratulate ourselves or others when good things happen that we deem fair and well deserved.
I'm not suggesting we all become robots and start muttering life's not fair over and over in a monotone voice. And I'm not saying we should stop caring about the things that are going on around us good or bad, but I am going to start taking a small stand against the idea that good things happen for good people and bad things happen to people who are either bad, not good enough, or worse, don't try hard enough to make good things happen for themselves.
How am I going to make this stand? This declaration? From this day onward I am no longer going to use the word deserve. As I said, it's a small stand but it's an important one because we are all using this D word countless times a day. We are saying it out loud to each other (you deserve better) and silently to ourselves in our own heads (I didn't deserve that.) In my opinion, the D word relieves us of taking responsibility for our own actions, and using it is disrespectful to those who are suffering.
You probably think I have gone off the deep end, so let me explain a bit.
"I went to the gym today. I deserve to have ice cream."
No, I don't. I want to have ice cream and for some reason I feel the need to tell myself and everybody else within earshot why it's a great idea, my destiny if you will, for me to have ice cream. From now on if I want ice cream then I will just eat it minus any large announcement about the efforts I put in throughout the day which led me to my decision. I will just say it, "I want ice cream." Or, "I'm having ice cream." Or even, "watch how much ice cream I can eat in one sitting." The same goes for a new car, a new house, clothes, a vacation, a fancy purse, beauty treatments or anything else. I don't deserve these things and I don't not deserve them. I might want them and if I want them then I will decide if I can afford to get them, weigh how much I really want them and go from there.
I am going to stop using the D word when congratulating others. I am no longer going to send emails that say congratulations on your well-deserved promotion (this will actually be quite easy being that I don't have a job or any co-workers but you get the idea.) Instead I will say, "you worked really hard, it is great to see that your efforts are being recognized by the company." Or, "you'll be great in your new role." But the D word will not be used. Why? Because a lot of people deserve promotions, not everyone gets promotions, working hard does not mean you deserve a promotion and not everyone who gets promoted deserves it.
I am also not going to celebrate anymore when bad things happen to people I don't like. If Donald Trump slips on a marble floor in one of the Trump buildings and cracks his head open because some immigrant didn't mop the floor properly, I am not going to say that Donald got what he deserved. I might laugh, but I will not use the D word. Because if I did say that Donald got what he deserved, then I'd have to go around reminding anyone and everyone who has had a mishap caused by the universe that they either did or didn't deserve what happened to them and that is silly.
"I'm sorry you have cancer, you don't deserve this."
That is a horrible thing to say to someone. The person is likely thinking back over his entire life rehashing every hot dog eaten, every martini consumed, every bit of anger held onto and every dental x-ray taken wondering what he did that caused the cancer. And does anyone really deserve to get cancer? If so, who? Charles Manson? People who prey on children? People who beat dogs? Who are we to decide who deserves what? Even someone who smokes three packs of cigarettes a day for 50 years doesn't deserve cancer. We might be less surprised if that person is diagnosed with cancer, but that doesn't mean she or he deserves to suffer or that his or her family should have to endure heartache.
Moving to Africa has reminded me just how much so many people are struggling. I hope that Christine does not wonder what she did in life to deserve to live in a shack, with no electricity and without running water, surrounded by trash. Because I can promise you she did nothing to deserve it. Did Gift deserve to be born in Zimbabwe and forced to live under Mugabe's leadership? Does he deserve a life where he has to work six or seven days a week yet still barely has enough money to buy food and by food I mean maize meal and some occasional chicken? And I don't deserve the great life I have. Yes, I have worked hard. Yes, I try to be a good person. Yes, I am grateful for all that I have both material and abstract. But deserving? That is where I have to draw the line.
Still I ain't seen mine, no I ain't seen mine
I've been givin' but just ain't gettin' I've been walkin' that thin line
So I think I'll keep a walking with my head held high" - Kid Rock, Only God Knows Why
When you were a kid did your mom have a specific saying or rule for life that she repeated to you over and over? Mr. Deep's mom used to say, "you buttered your bread, now sleep on it." My friend's mom used to say "if you're bored you're boring."
Actually Mr. Deep's mom didn't exactly say "you buttered your bread now sleep on it." But she was known for saying both "you buttered your bread now eat it" and "you made your bed now sleep in it" and Mr. Deep being quite hilarious, even at a young age, changed it to "you buttered your bread, now sleep on it."
I wonder in this day of of bounce house birthday parties are moms are still imparting these one line snippets of wisdom onto their children?
My mom's words of wisdom were, "life's not fair." And of course she was correct.
The thing about life not being fair is that we all know it, but time after time we keep forgetting and repeatedly becoming outraged, disappointed and upset when unfair things happen. Meanwhile, we are more than happy to congratulate ourselves or others when good things happen that we deem fair and well deserved.
I'm not suggesting we all become robots and start muttering life's not fair over and over in a monotone voice. And I'm not saying we should stop caring about the things that are going on around us good or bad, but I am going to start taking a small stand against the idea that good things happen for good people and bad things happen to people who are either bad, not good enough, or worse, don't try hard enough to make good things happen for themselves.
How am I going to make this stand? This declaration? From this day onward I am no longer going to use the word deserve. As I said, it's a small stand but it's an important one because we are all using this D word countless times a day. We are saying it out loud to each other (you deserve better) and silently to ourselves in our own heads (I didn't deserve that.) In my opinion, the D word relieves us of taking responsibility for our own actions, and using it is disrespectful to those who are suffering.
You probably think I have gone off the deep end, so let me explain a bit.
"I went to the gym today. I deserve to have ice cream."
No, I don't. I want to have ice cream and for some reason I feel the need to tell myself and everybody else within earshot why it's a great idea, my destiny if you will, for me to have ice cream. From now on if I want ice cream then I will just eat it minus any large announcement about the efforts I put in throughout the day which led me to my decision. I will just say it, "I want ice cream." Or, "I'm having ice cream." Or even, "watch how much ice cream I can eat in one sitting." The same goes for a new car, a new house, clothes, a vacation, a fancy purse, beauty treatments or anything else. I don't deserve these things and I don't not deserve them. I might want them and if I want them then I will decide if I can afford to get them, weigh how much I really want them and go from there.
I am going to stop using the D word when congratulating others. I am no longer going to send emails that say congratulations on your well-deserved promotion (this will actually be quite easy being that I don't have a job or any co-workers but you get the idea.) Instead I will say, "you worked really hard, it is great to see that your efforts are being recognized by the company." Or, "you'll be great in your new role." But the D word will not be used. Why? Because a lot of people deserve promotions, not everyone gets promotions, working hard does not mean you deserve a promotion and not everyone who gets promoted deserves it.
I am also not going to celebrate anymore when bad things happen to people I don't like. If Donald Trump slips on a marble floor in one of the Trump buildings and cracks his head open because some immigrant didn't mop the floor properly, I am not going to say that Donald got what he deserved. I might laugh, but I will not use the D word. Because if I did say that Donald got what he deserved, then I'd have to go around reminding anyone and everyone who has had a mishap caused by the universe that they either did or didn't deserve what happened to them and that is silly.
"I'm sorry you have cancer, you don't deserve this."
That is a horrible thing to say to someone. The person is likely thinking back over his entire life rehashing every hot dog eaten, every martini consumed, every bit of anger held onto and every dental x-ray taken wondering what he did that caused the cancer. And does anyone really deserve to get cancer? If so, who? Charles Manson? People who prey on children? People who beat dogs? Who are we to decide who deserves what? Even someone who smokes three packs of cigarettes a day for 50 years doesn't deserve cancer. We might be less surprised if that person is diagnosed with cancer, but that doesn't mean she or he deserves to suffer or that his or her family should have to endure heartache.
Moving to Africa has reminded me just how much so many people are struggling. I hope that Christine does not wonder what she did in life to deserve to live in a shack, with no electricity and without running water, surrounded by trash. Because I can promise you she did nothing to deserve it. Did Gift deserve to be born in Zimbabwe and forced to live under Mugabe's leadership? Does he deserve a life where he has to work six or seven days a week yet still barely has enough money to buy food and by food I mean maize meal and some occasional chicken? And I don't deserve the great life I have. Yes, I have worked hard. Yes, I try to be a good person. Yes, I am grateful for all that I have both material and abstract. But deserving? That is where I have to draw the line.
Monday, January 4, 2016
Deep Thoughts
My apologies that the font sizes in the email version of this post were wacky. I have fixed that now. Enjoy the post!
As we kick off 2016 I thought it might be interesting to share a different perspective. You've read post after post describing my experiences and thoughts about living in South Africa, but what about Mr. Deep? What does he think about life in South Africa? What does he enjoy, what could he do without and what really annoys him about his wife? OK, that last question really doesn't have much to do with life in South Africa, but it might be interesting to find out anyway. Or, it might not be that interesting.
Before I get to our Q&A with Mr. Deep, I thought I'd share the reason that I call this blog My Thoughts From the Deep End. First, because when you are a kid, going in the deep end of the pool is a very big deal. Obviously you can't touch the bottom and you have to rely on your swimming skills to stay alive. That is how I felt about moving to South Africa. Very excited but totally outside my comfort zone. I wasn't sure if I'd be a strong enough swimmer to survive. Luckily, so far so good.
Second, on my visa I am listed as a "dependent spouse" which means Mr. Deep is my only reason for being here. As a dependent spouse I can't have my own bank account, my own cell phone account or my own any account and I can't get a job. It means South Africa tolerates my being here because they figure if they ask my husband to leave me back in the U.S. he might not come here and work.
As part of the visa application process, Mr. Deep had to sign a letter of undertaking saying he'd take care of me, his dependent, and see to all of my needs for the entire time that we are here. It's like when you agree to let your friend bring his dodgy girlfriend to your party. You say, "OK, you can bring her but you're responsible for making sure she doesn't go off the rails and if she does, you're sending her home ASAP" So I'm deep-end-ent on Mr. Deep and if I act out, he needs to send me packing to the U.S.A. Thus, the deep end.
An interview with Mr. Deep.
Interviewer: Mr. Deep, you've been living in South Africa for over ten months now. Tell me, what are some of the things that you enjoy most about life here?
Mr. Deep: Most of the time the weather. Despite the recent heat wave we've been having, the weather is usually beautiful. I enjoy being able to see wild animals in their natural habitat pretty much any time I want. I like the fact that we can live in such a nice house for way cheaper than something comparable would go for back home. I also love that beer and food are pretty cheap. I enjoy that we do things that most of the people I work with don't or would not do, like go to beer/music festivals, go on Soweto bar crawls, go to the CBD (Ed - Central Business District) to see an indie movie. Or take my Jeep out for a proper off-road beating.
Interviewer: Why do you think most people don't or won't go to the types of places that you mention?
Mr. Deep: Some have kids/families, so beer fests and bar crawls would clearly not be the first choice for something to do. Some would just not think of going to CBD/Soweto in general. I would guess it is just a cultural thing that we as expats do not have a hang-up with?
Interviewer: And of the flip side, what are some things about living here that you find difficult or that you don't enjoy?
Mr. Deep: The traffic really sucks. Not all of the time, but during the morning commute, a 15 minute trip usually takes 40 minutes. I don't enjoy running into cops looking for payoffs. Also, seeing all the poverty constantly. While I am not quite as overt in my altruism as the interviewer is, I do make it a point to pay the parking guards which many of my colleagues do not do. The load shedding is a pain in the ass and I also don't enjoy losing water for weeks at a time. The air quality also leaves a lot to be desired sometimes.
Interviewer: If someone you knew was thinking of moving to Joburg, South Africa, what advice would you give to him or her?
Mr. Deep: Have an open mind. It is tough to put yourself in anyone's shoes here as you are not from here. I try not to have opinions on certain things here, if you know what I mean. Also, don't believe everything you hear on the crime - just be careful. But car-jamming is real. You should manually double check your car is locked after you click the remote. Third, just accept that the taxis will drive where they want and cut you off. No sense getting mad about it. Unless you have a Jeep and don't mind scratching it. Then you will always win the game of "chicken."
Interviewer: Yes, I know what you mean about having opinions. I once a read a quote that said, "don't judge a book by the chapter you walked in on." So I also keep my opinions to myself because I feel like I am a guest in this country and I know I don't have all of the information and the history. And I agree the taxis are very reckless. You need to be very careful and assume any taxi you see is going to somehow break a traffic law within the next 15 seconds.
Interviewer: You go to work every day. How are you finding your job here?
Mr. Deep: A nice change from what I was doing, more hands on. Although my last role really helped me learn much about one of the company's main businesses and the project turned out to be something really important for management. Now, I am learning a new business and gaining good experience in "non-accounting-related" financial management. We have set up a lot of processes from scratch and I enjoy the entrepreneurial atmosphere. We have a small team that I am one of the leaders of and I feel like more than just a "mid-level cog at McCann." Your fans of Mad Men should get that reference.
Interviewer: Since you brought it up, did you like the Mad Men series finale?
Mr. Deep: Nice way to end the show. I liked it.
Interviewer: What do you miss about living in the U.S.A.?
Mr. Deep: Surprisingly not too much. Proximity to a few people that I care about and wish I could visit more. Friends that did not live close by are still just as close thanks to that interweb thing. I do miss having places to walk or run. This place is not very pedestrian friendly. I do miss my sports and not being able to watch my teams, although this was a great year to not have to watch them, especially the Giants. Ugh.
Interviewer: Does it bother you that your wife is not working? Do you wonder what it is exactly that she does all day?
Mr. Deep: No it does not. She deserves the break. And the interviewer well knows that I have no right to complain even if it did, given my two-year sabbatical a while back. I don't really wonder what she does all day because she blogs about it, texts me during the day and generally keeps me informed.
Interviewer: Does it bother you when you meet new people, introduce yourself as Stephen and then your wife constantly refers to you as Steve possibly confusing your new friends as to what you want to be called?
Mr. Deep: Not really. I think the stigma of the "Don't be a Steve" campaign has disappeared but I still like to call myself Stephen now. I will also answer to Steve. Just not Steven. Not sure how this works, but some people in the office address me as Steven in an e-mail, when the proper spelling is RIGHT THERE IN THE E-MAIL ADDRESS.
Interviewer: Assuming that you only have two years left before you have to leave Africa, what are some of the places you want to visit and things that you want to do before you leave?
Mr. Deep: In no particular order, Namibia, Madagascar, the Okavango Delta in Botswana, Victoria Falls whenever it gets some more water running over it, Lesotho, Mozambique, Mauritius, perhaps a safari on the Zambezi river. I would also like to climb Kilimanjaro as long as I am here. As for other things to do, catch some live Rugby and Cricket, explore some other areas of Joburg and do some more fishing.
Interviewer: Yes, you recently went fishing for the first time since living here. Tell us a little about that experience.
Mr. Deep: We were over at the neighbor's for Christmas lunch. His whole family was there so I got talking with his father and the topic of fishing came up. Next thing you know I get an invite for the next morning to go fishing at the Lonehill Dam. Dam is what they call man-made lakes. I caught some pretty big barbels, which is what they call African Catfish. I seem to remember a blog post about different words they use here. Guess you can add a couple more.
Interviewer: What else do you want readers to know?
Mr. Deep: I am glad I am far removed from that shit-show also known as the Presidential Primaries. U.S. politics in general to be quite honest. It is quite nice to not be bombarded by that stuff 24/7.
As we kick off 2016 I thought it might be interesting to share a different perspective. You've read post after post describing my experiences and thoughts about living in South Africa, but what about Mr. Deep? What does he think about life in South Africa? What does he enjoy, what could he do without and what really annoys him about his wife? OK, that last question really doesn't have much to do with life in South Africa, but it might be interesting to find out anyway. Or, it might not be that interesting.
Before I get to our Q&A with Mr. Deep, I thought I'd share the reason that I call this blog My Thoughts From the Deep End. First, because when you are a kid, going in the deep end of the pool is a very big deal. Obviously you can't touch the bottom and you have to rely on your swimming skills to stay alive. That is how I felt about moving to South Africa. Very excited but totally outside my comfort zone. I wasn't sure if I'd be a strong enough swimmer to survive. Luckily, so far so good.
Second, on my visa I am listed as a "dependent spouse" which means Mr. Deep is my only reason for being here. As a dependent spouse I can't have my own bank account, my own cell phone account or my own any account and I can't get a job. It means South Africa tolerates my being here because they figure if they ask my husband to leave me back in the U.S. he might not come here and work.
As part of the visa application process, Mr. Deep had to sign a letter of undertaking saying he'd take care of me, his dependent, and see to all of my needs for the entire time that we are here. It's like when you agree to let your friend bring his dodgy girlfriend to your party. You say, "OK, you can bring her but you're responsible for making sure she doesn't go off the rails and if she does, you're sending her home ASAP" So I'm deep-end-ent on Mr. Deep and if I act out, he needs to send me packing to the U.S.A. Thus, the deep end.
Interviewer: Mr. Deep, you've been living in South Africa for over ten months now. Tell me, what are some of the things that you enjoy most about life here?
Mr. Deep: Most of the time the weather. Despite the recent heat wave we've been having, the weather is usually beautiful. I enjoy being able to see wild animals in their natural habitat pretty much any time I want. I like the fact that we can live in such a nice house for way cheaper than something comparable would go for back home. I also love that beer and food are pretty cheap. I enjoy that we do things that most of the people I work with don't or would not do, like go to beer/music festivals, go on Soweto bar crawls, go to the CBD (Ed - Central Business District) to see an indie movie. Or take my Jeep out for a proper off-road beating.
Interviewer: Why do you think most people don't or won't go to the types of places that you mention?
Mr. Deep: Some have kids/families, so beer fests and bar crawls would clearly not be the first choice for something to do. Some would just not think of going to CBD/Soweto in general. I would guess it is just a cultural thing that we as expats do not have a hang-up with?
Interviewer: And of the flip side, what are some things about living here that you find difficult or that you don't enjoy?
Mr. Deep: The traffic really sucks. Not all of the time, but during the morning commute, a 15 minute trip usually takes 40 minutes. I don't enjoy running into cops looking for payoffs. Also, seeing all the poverty constantly. While I am not quite as overt in my altruism as the interviewer is, I do make it a point to pay the parking guards which many of my colleagues do not do. The load shedding is a pain in the ass and I also don't enjoy losing water for weeks at a time. The air quality also leaves a lot to be desired sometimes.
Interviewer: If someone you knew was thinking of moving to Joburg, South Africa, what advice would you give to him or her?
Mr. Deep: Have an open mind. It is tough to put yourself in anyone's shoes here as you are not from here. I try not to have opinions on certain things here, if you know what I mean. Also, don't believe everything you hear on the crime - just be careful. But car-jamming is real. You should manually double check your car is locked after you click the remote. Third, just accept that the taxis will drive where they want and cut you off. No sense getting mad about it. Unless you have a Jeep and don't mind scratching it. Then you will always win the game of "chicken."
Interviewer: Yes, I know what you mean about having opinions. I once a read a quote that said, "don't judge a book by the chapter you walked in on." So I also keep my opinions to myself because I feel like I am a guest in this country and I know I don't have all of the information and the history. And I agree the taxis are very reckless. You need to be very careful and assume any taxi you see is going to somehow break a traffic law within the next 15 seconds.
Interviewer: You go to work every day. How are you finding your job here?
Mr. Deep: A nice change from what I was doing, more hands on. Although my last role really helped me learn much about one of the company's main businesses and the project turned out to be something really important for management. Now, I am learning a new business and gaining good experience in "non-accounting-related" financial management. We have set up a lot of processes from scratch and I enjoy the entrepreneurial atmosphere. We have a small team that I am one of the leaders of and I feel like more than just a "mid-level cog at McCann." Your fans of Mad Men should get that reference.
Interviewer: Since you brought it up, did you like the Mad Men series finale?
Mr. Deep: Nice way to end the show. I liked it.
Interviewer: What do you miss about living in the U.S.A.?
Mr. Deep: Surprisingly not too much. Proximity to a few people that I care about and wish I could visit more. Friends that did not live close by are still just as close thanks to that interweb thing. I do miss having places to walk or run. This place is not very pedestrian friendly. I do miss my sports and not being able to watch my teams, although this was a great year to not have to watch them, especially the Giants. Ugh.
Interviewer: Does it bother you that your wife is not working? Do you wonder what it is exactly that she does all day?
Mr. Deep: No it does not. She deserves the break. And the interviewer well knows that I have no right to complain even if it did, given my two-year sabbatical a while back. I don't really wonder what she does all day because she blogs about it, texts me during the day and generally keeps me informed.
Interviewer: Does it bother you when you meet new people, introduce yourself as Stephen and then your wife constantly refers to you as Steve possibly confusing your new friends as to what you want to be called?
Mr. Deep: Not really. I think the stigma of the "Don't be a Steve" campaign has disappeared but I still like to call myself Stephen now. I will also answer to Steve. Just not Steven. Not sure how this works, but some people in the office address me as Steven in an e-mail, when the proper spelling is RIGHT THERE IN THE E-MAIL ADDRESS.
Interviewer: Assuming that you only have two years left before you have to leave Africa, what are some of the places you want to visit and things that you want to do before you leave?
Mr. Deep: In no particular order, Namibia, Madagascar, the Okavango Delta in Botswana, Victoria Falls whenever it gets some more water running over it, Lesotho, Mozambique, Mauritius, perhaps a safari on the Zambezi river. I would also like to climb Kilimanjaro as long as I am here. As for other things to do, catch some live Rugby and Cricket, explore some other areas of Joburg and do some more fishing.
Interviewer: Yes, you recently went fishing for the first time since living here. Tell us a little about that experience.
Mr. Deep: We were over at the neighbor's for Christmas lunch. His whole family was there so I got talking with his father and the topic of fishing came up. Next thing you know I get an invite for the next morning to go fishing at the Lonehill Dam. Dam is what they call man-made lakes. I caught some pretty big barbels, which is what they call African Catfish. I seem to remember a blog post about different words they use here. Guess you can add a couple more.
Interviewer: What else do you want readers to know?
Mr. Deep: I am glad I am far removed from that shit-show also known as the Presidential Primaries. U.S. politics in general to be quite honest. It is quite nice to not be bombarded by that stuff 24/7.
 |
| Mr. Deep on Boxing Day with the giant barbel that he caught. |
Thursday, December 17, 2015
Karma
I don't believe in karma. I also don't believe in feng shui, the healing power of crystals or aromatherapy. I do believe in astrology a bit because I am a Virgo and if you know me you know I am such a Virgo but that's where my new age beliefs end and my practicality begins. Practicality by the way being a central Virgo trait.
I remember when I was a kid I read a Judy Blume book and the main character in the book used to write in her diary every evening and she would grade her day. She only had one A plus day and all the rest were just average and graded as B's and C's. I don't remember much else about the book or even the title.
I mention all of this because I had an A plus day today. It was so wonderful that it almost made me believe in karma.
My day began when Justice, who I wrote about in this post, surprised me by coming to work with Christine this morning. I have not seen Justice since his last day of work for us at the end of September but I have been chatting with him over whatsapp. About a month after he left us, Justice got a job! He is now working security at some type of estate or housing complex. I didn't help him to get the job but I was able to help him with a few things he needed once he had the job. He told me recently that he wanted to come by one day to say hello and I guess today was the day. I was excited to give him some Christmas gifts that I brought back for him from the U.S.A. First, was a Yankees cap which he loved and second were some seashells that I gathered for him on the beach in Florida. Give most people over the age of seven a gift of seashells that you picked up yourself from the beach and they will be like what the F$%& is this? But I knew that Justice would really like them. And when I gave them to him Christine said it perfectly. She said "Justice loves decorations." And as much as he loved the hat, he loved the shells and he spent time looking at each one and said how beautiful they were and I knew that he meant it.
We talked for a while and then he began cleaning my windows. The American version of me would have tried to stop him, telling him it wasn't necessary and making a big fuss about how he didn't need to work for free or running to the ATM so I could pay him, but South African version of American me just let him do it because I know he wanted to repay me for some kindnesses and this was his way and to stop him or pay him would have been rude. When I got home this afternoon and he and Christine had already left so I sent him a note to thank him for my gorgeous and sparkling windows and he replied, "you deserve good things."
Also today, I spent time with Gift. I went to his house and met his sister and his brother in law for the first time. They were so nice to me. I think a lot of cynical relatives in this world might have been confused and wondered what my motives for being friends with Gift might be. Am I some kind of recruiter trying to bring him into my cult? Do I work for immigration? Am I a sad and lonely housewife with wild fantasies about younger African men? If they did wonder these things or had questions about me they didn't let on, instead they accepted me as being genuine and welcomed me into their home, giving me a piece of corn on the cob to eat (called mealies here) and chatting with me for an hour. At the end of our visit they told me I was welcome to come back any time to visit.
I brought Gift some clothes and shoes from the U.S.A. When I gave him these items he acted like those people we have all seen on the publishers clearing house commercials. He was happier than any grown up adult I have seen in a long, long while and possibly ever. Later, he wrote me a note saying he was "so much more than the word happy" and that I was his "first friend of white." And I replied to him much like Justice replied to me, and told him that he deserves nice things.
Finally, at the end of the day and I saw our neighbor from across the street, Brenda, standing outside of her house. We hardly know our neighbors except to say hello or to chat briefly if we happen to be outside at the same time. I needed to talk to her today because I had a timely question concerning what, if anything, we should do for the guards at our estate for Christmas. Mr. Deep had suggested I ask her for input. We chatted for a bit and she asked me if we were going to be here for Christmas and what our plans were. I said we were just going to stay home and braai (grill.) By the way Mr. Deep and I don't really celebrate Christmas and we have have spent many, many Christmas days just making dinner at home and hanging out. We also generally don't give each other birthday presents or celebrate any holidays (except Thanksgiving which only involves making dinner) so it's not like we would be sitting at home sobbing, missing the U.S. and feeling suicidal but she of course doesn't know that. So once she heard we had no real plans she invited us to come over for Christmas. The American version of me would have been horrified thinking this poor woman really doesn't want us to come over, she is just being nice and later she is going to have to apologize to her husband for speaking without thinking and tell him she invited us and he will say, "dammit Brenda, do you even know their names?" But the South African version of American me said, "great what time should we come over" and wondered (briefly) if this is what good karma feels like.
My day began when Justice, who I wrote about in this post, surprised me by coming to work with Christine this morning. I have not seen Justice since his last day of work for us at the end of September but I have been chatting with him over whatsapp. About a month after he left us, Justice got a job! He is now working security at some type of estate or housing complex. I didn't help him to get the job but I was able to help him with a few things he needed once he had the job. He told me recently that he wanted to come by one day to say hello and I guess today was the day. I was excited to give him some Christmas gifts that I brought back for him from the U.S.A. First, was a Yankees cap which he loved and second were some seashells that I gathered for him on the beach in Florida. Give most people over the age of seven a gift of seashells that you picked up yourself from the beach and they will be like what the F$%& is this? But I knew that Justice would really like them. And when I gave them to him Christine said it perfectly. She said "Justice loves decorations." And as much as he loved the hat, he loved the shells and he spent time looking at each one and said how beautiful they were and I knew that he meant it.
We talked for a while and then he began cleaning my windows. The American version of me would have tried to stop him, telling him it wasn't necessary and making a big fuss about how he didn't need to work for free or running to the ATM so I could pay him, but South African version of American me just let him do it because I know he wanted to repay me for some kindnesses and this was his way and to stop him or pay him would have been rude. When I got home this afternoon and he and Christine had already left so I sent him a note to thank him for my gorgeous and sparkling windows and he replied, "you deserve good things."
Also today, I spent time with Gift. I went to his house and met his sister and his brother in law for the first time. They were so nice to me. I think a lot of cynical relatives in this world might have been confused and wondered what my motives for being friends with Gift might be. Am I some kind of recruiter trying to bring him into my cult? Do I work for immigration? Am I a sad and lonely housewife with wild fantasies about younger African men? If they did wonder these things or had questions about me they didn't let on, instead they accepted me as being genuine and welcomed me into their home, giving me a piece of corn on the cob to eat (called mealies here) and chatting with me for an hour. At the end of our visit they told me I was welcome to come back any time to visit.
I brought Gift some clothes and shoes from the U.S.A. When I gave him these items he acted like those people we have all seen on the publishers clearing house commercials. He was happier than any grown up adult I have seen in a long, long while and possibly ever. Later, he wrote me a note saying he was "so much more than the word happy" and that I was his "first friend of white." And I replied to him much like Justice replied to me, and told him that he deserves nice things.
Finally, at the end of the day and I saw our neighbor from across the street, Brenda, standing outside of her house. We hardly know our neighbors except to say hello or to chat briefly if we happen to be outside at the same time. I needed to talk to her today because I had a timely question concerning what, if anything, we should do for the guards at our estate for Christmas. Mr. Deep had suggested I ask her for input. We chatted for a bit and she asked me if we were going to be here for Christmas and what our plans were. I said we were just going to stay home and braai (grill.) By the way Mr. Deep and I don't really celebrate Christmas and we have have spent many, many Christmas days just making dinner at home and hanging out. We also generally don't give each other birthday presents or celebrate any holidays (except Thanksgiving which only involves making dinner) so it's not like we would be sitting at home sobbing, missing the U.S. and feeling suicidal but she of course doesn't know that. So once she heard we had no real plans she invited us to come over for Christmas. The American version of me would have been horrified thinking this poor woman really doesn't want us to come over, she is just being nice and later she is going to have to apologize to her husband for speaking without thinking and tell him she invited us and he will say, "dammit Brenda, do you even know their names?" But the South African version of American me said, "great what time should we come over" and wondered (briefly) if this is what good karma feels like.
 |
| Justice at our house wearing his new cap. And yes, it totally matched his jacket. |
Thursday, December 3, 2015
My Friend Gift
Written in New York City while sitting at a Starbucks. Yum. Starbucks.
This post is not about how I am gifted in the art of making friends. This is a story about how I made a new friend, named Gift.
I met Gift a few weeks ago when I parked in the lot where he was working. I had parked there so that I could go for a run. As an aside Mr. Deep and I are training for a half marathon and running has been taking up a lot of our free time. In my case however running has has not been taking up nearly as much of my time as it should be. I have not been committed to my training as much as Mr. Deep has or as much as I should be. Anyway, on the day I met Gift I had finished running and I was standing by my car, drinking my water and concentrating on not throwing up when Gift came over and we started talking. After a few minutes of chatting about the weather, Gift told me he was hoping to get a better job and he asked me if I knew of anything. I was impressed by his initiative because if you have ever looked for a job you know it's all in the networking. Gift explained that he came to South Africa from Zimbabwe three months ago and he said he does not have a permit to work in South Africa. He told me he has a drivers license and maybe even a commercial drivers license (sometimes it's hard to understand.) I promised to keep my ears open for him. He gave me his phone number so if I heard of anything I could let him know via whatsapp. We've been friends ever since chatting frequently on whatsapp.
Gift works as a car guard, which means to make a living he stands in a parking lot and guards the cars that are parked there. Car guards are employed in nearly every parking lot in the part of South Africa where we live. Their job is to watch your car while you're inside shopping, working, eating or whatever. The car guards are not paid a salary and rely solely on customer tips. If that were not bad enough, what I learned from talking to Gift, is that the guards have to pay to work. Yes, you read correctly. Car guards pay a daily fee to some type of boss, a person who I think there is a special spot reserved for in hell, to rent the area of the parking lot that they are covering. Gift pays R25 per day so that he can guard cars. He told me that on a good day, if he is assigned to a busy section of the lot and if a lot of people are out shopping he can earn R100. However, I have seen the lot where he works and I would be surprised if he earns R100 in a day very often. Between the R25 he pays as his fee, plus his transportation to and from work, I estimate that sometimes he can take home about R50 which equals $3.50 USD. He said if it's a really bad day, and if a guard can't pay the R25 fee then the fee is added to the fee for the next day.
Gift and the other guards stand in the hot sun or the cold or the rain for 12 hours a day watching cars, being nice to shoppers, loading packages into the cars for them, directing them as they back out of parking spots and hoping desperately that they come out ahead financially that day. He didn't say this, but I think that working as a car guard is also slightly dangerous. Not just because of the heat that they often have to bear, but because if a deranged criminal does want to steal cars or the contents of cars or rob people, the unarmed car guard is definitely no match for the criminal.
As I mentioned Gift came to South Africa from Zimbabwe three months ago. You will remember that I have written about Zimbabwe in other posts, about how the electricity goes out for 8 hours a day and how in many places no water comes out of the taps. South Africa certainly has many of its own problems (for example we recently had no water coming out of the taps at our house for two weeks) with its troubled and aging infrastructure, government corruption and 25% unemployment rate, but to people from many other African countries, South Africa is the land of opportunity.
After chatting with Gift over whatsapp, I invited him to meet me for lunch on one of his rare days off. When I offered to buy him lunch he responded that he had never eaten in a restaurant before and that he did not know how to use a knife or a fork. I could tell he was slightly embarrassed about it so I purposely I took him to a burger place (not McDonald's because I have my standards) but a place called Wimpy. I think it was a good first restaurant experience. We had a waitress and silverware was made available to us but we didn't use it. I showed him a little bit how to use the knife and fork but it was not a full and proper lesson. And to be honest, I am not the best person to be giving anyone advice in this area.
During our lunch I learned that Gift is 35 years old. Both of his parents are deceased (later through my research I found out the life expectancy in Zim is 56 for a man and 57 for a woman.) Gift lives in a house in Joburg with his sister and one other person. He pays his sister R1000 per month rent and he has his own room in the house. He normally works 7 days a week from about 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. each day. In the month that I have known him he has had two days off.
In many ways Gift is just like my other friends. He likes making jokes, using emoticons on his phone and watching sports, mostly soccer, on TV. Liverpool is his favorite team. And he likes beer. Castle Light is his favorite beer. Communicating with him has taught me that I have a tendency to say a lot of things that are dumb. Well not exactly dumb but inappropriate for his situation. For example, when I told him he deserved to have a day off after working so hard for so many days in a row he was perplexed and reminded me that he has no choice but to accept the fact that although he was told he would have a day off, he didn't get it. When I told him that I was confident that he would get a better job soon, he asked me how I knew such a thing and then I had to admit that really I didn't and I was just trying to be positive and upbeat.
When I told Gift that Mr. Deep and I were going to visit America for a few weeks, he asked me to tell my friends from America about Gift. He sometimes talks about himself in the third person. He said to tell my American friends that he wishes to visit their country someday but for now he is too poor.
This post is not about how I am gifted in the art of making friends. This is a story about how I made a new friend, named Gift.
I met Gift a few weeks ago when I parked in the lot where he was working. I had parked there so that I could go for a run. As an aside Mr. Deep and I are training for a half marathon and running has been taking up a lot of our free time. In my case however running has has not been taking up nearly as much of my time as it should be. I have not been committed to my training as much as Mr. Deep has or as much as I should be. Anyway, on the day I met Gift I had finished running and I was standing by my car, drinking my water and concentrating on not throwing up when Gift came over and we started talking. After a few minutes of chatting about the weather, Gift told me he was hoping to get a better job and he asked me if I knew of anything. I was impressed by his initiative because if you have ever looked for a job you know it's all in the networking. Gift explained that he came to South Africa from Zimbabwe three months ago and he said he does not have a permit to work in South Africa. He told me he has a drivers license and maybe even a commercial drivers license (sometimes it's hard to understand.) I promised to keep my ears open for him. He gave me his phone number so if I heard of anything I could let him know via whatsapp. We've been friends ever since chatting frequently on whatsapp.
Gift works as a car guard, which means to make a living he stands in a parking lot and guards the cars that are parked there. Car guards are employed in nearly every parking lot in the part of South Africa where we live. Their job is to watch your car while you're inside shopping, working, eating or whatever. The car guards are not paid a salary and rely solely on customer tips. If that were not bad enough, what I learned from talking to Gift, is that the guards have to pay to work. Yes, you read correctly. Car guards pay a daily fee to some type of boss, a person who I think there is a special spot reserved for in hell, to rent the area of the parking lot that they are covering. Gift pays R25 per day so that he can guard cars. He told me that on a good day, if he is assigned to a busy section of the lot and if a lot of people are out shopping he can earn R100. However, I have seen the lot where he works and I would be surprised if he earns R100 in a day very often. Between the R25 he pays as his fee, plus his transportation to and from work, I estimate that sometimes he can take home about R50 which equals $3.50 USD. He said if it's a really bad day, and if a guard can't pay the R25 fee then the fee is added to the fee for the next day.
Gift and the other guards stand in the hot sun or the cold or the rain for 12 hours a day watching cars, being nice to shoppers, loading packages into the cars for them, directing them as they back out of parking spots and hoping desperately that they come out ahead financially that day. He didn't say this, but I think that working as a car guard is also slightly dangerous. Not just because of the heat that they often have to bear, but because if a deranged criminal does want to steal cars or the contents of cars or rob people, the unarmed car guard is definitely no match for the criminal.
As I mentioned Gift came to South Africa from Zimbabwe three months ago. You will remember that I have written about Zimbabwe in other posts, about how the electricity goes out for 8 hours a day and how in many places no water comes out of the taps. South Africa certainly has many of its own problems (for example we recently had no water coming out of the taps at our house for two weeks) with its troubled and aging infrastructure, government corruption and 25% unemployment rate, but to people from many other African countries, South Africa is the land of opportunity.
After chatting with Gift over whatsapp, I invited him to meet me for lunch on one of his rare days off. When I offered to buy him lunch he responded that he had never eaten in a restaurant before and that he did not know how to use a knife or a fork. I could tell he was slightly embarrassed about it so I purposely I took him to a burger place (not McDonald's because I have my standards) but a place called Wimpy. I think it was a good first restaurant experience. We had a waitress and silverware was made available to us but we didn't use it. I showed him a little bit how to use the knife and fork but it was not a full and proper lesson. And to be honest, I am not the best person to be giving anyone advice in this area.
During our lunch I learned that Gift is 35 years old. Both of his parents are deceased (later through my research I found out the life expectancy in Zim is 56 for a man and 57 for a woman.) Gift lives in a house in Joburg with his sister and one other person. He pays his sister R1000 per month rent and he has his own room in the house. He normally works 7 days a week from about 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. each day. In the month that I have known him he has had two days off.
In many ways Gift is just like my other friends. He likes making jokes, using emoticons on his phone and watching sports, mostly soccer, on TV. Liverpool is his favorite team. And he likes beer. Castle Light is his favorite beer. Communicating with him has taught me that I have a tendency to say a lot of things that are dumb. Well not exactly dumb but inappropriate for his situation. For example, when I told him he deserved to have a day off after working so hard for so many days in a row he was perplexed and reminded me that he has no choice but to accept the fact that although he was told he would have a day off, he didn't get it. When I told him that I was confident that he would get a better job soon, he asked me how I knew such a thing and then I had to admit that really I didn't and I was just trying to be positive and upbeat.
When I told Gift that Mr. Deep and I were going to visit America for a few weeks, he asked me to tell my friends from America about Gift. He sometimes talks about himself in the third person. He said to tell my American friends that he wishes to visit their country someday but for now he is too poor.
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Take the Pen
Remember the Seinfeld episode when Jerry went to visit his parents in Florida? They lived in a retirement community called Del Boca Vista. During the visit a neighbor named Jack Klompus stopped by. Jack had an astronaut pen. It was called that because you could write with it upside down. Jerry admired the pen.The dialogue goes like this.
JERRY: What kind of pen is that?
JACK: This pen?
JERRY: Yeah.
JACK: This is an astronaut pen. It writes upside down. They use this in space.
JERRY: Wow! That's the astronaut pen. I heard about that. Where did you get it?
JACK: Oh it was a gift.
JERRY: Cause sometimes I write in bed and I have to turn and lean on my elbow to make the pen work.
JACK: Take the pen.
JERRY: Oh no.
JACK: Go ahead.
JERRY: I couldn't
JACK: Come on, take the pen!
JERRY: I can't take it.
JACK: Do me a personal favor!
JERRY: No, I'm not...
JACK: Take the pen!
JERRY: I cannot take it!
JACK: Take the pen!
JERRY: Are you sure?
JACK: Positive! Take the pen!
JERRY: O.K. Thank you very much. Thank you. Gee, boy!
Then Jack leaves and Jerry's mother says to Jerry, "What did you take his pen for?"
Here's what I have learned. This is American behavior. I'm not saying it's bad. I am and always will be proudly American. But this is not how people behave in other places.
People here are happy to accept gifts and offers of help. There is no argument, there is no back and forth there is simply a thank you. It's the opposite of what I am used to. It's as if it would be rude NOT to accept an offer of assistance.
People here are happy to accept gifts and offers of help. There is no argument, there is no back and forth there is simply a thank you. It's the opposite of what I am used to. It's as if it would be rude NOT to accept an offer of assistance.
I first noticed this months ago when we still lived at the Sunninghill Guest Lodge. We didn't have much of a kitchen so I had bought a pizza for lunch. I couldn't eat all of it so I asked the maid if she would like the rest. And she said yes! I was shocked. I never in a million years actually thought she would take it. It's not that I wanted the pizza, it's that my whole life I have been trained that in that situation while it is nice to offer the other person is likely going to decline the offer.
Can you imagine if you tried to offer your leftover pizza to someone in the U.S.? A co-worker or a hotel maid? Anyone short of a homeless person would likely be confused. They might even wonder what was wrong with the pizza.
You: would you like the rest of this pizza?
Person: you don't want it?
You: no I'm full. I can't eat another bite.
Person: well you can save it and eat it later.
You: yes I could do that but I am wondering if you would like it.
Person: I don't want to take your pizza
You: I'm telling you I want to give it to you.
Person: No, you keep it. I ate lunch already.
And on and on and on.
Here are a bunch more examples of people in South Africa "taking the pen."
One day I had to go to the dry cleaners. I was eating some pretzels at the time. One of the ladies working at the cleaners remarked that the pretzels looked good. I asked if she would like some and she said yes.
I often give Christine food to take home. She always accepts it and simply says thank you. I don't have to make up a story about how I have left over chicken and I'm not going to eat it and it's going to go bad and yes I could freeze it blah blah. I just simply say please take this chicken home and she replies thank you.
The guards where we live will sometimes stop me when I'm driving out and ask me if I am going to the shops. If I say that I am they will ask me to bring them a loaf of bread and a 2 liter coke. I think they sometimes unexpectedly have to work double shifts and they can't leave their posts to get food. Oh and we can talk another time about how a loaf of white bread and a giant coke is not a proper meal! Anyway, the guards always offer to pay for this food but I never let them. And they don't argue. They don't try to throw their money through my open car window or anonymously tape it to my front door, they just say thank you.
Maybe you are thinking that it's only people who are poor and possibly desperate who readily accept offers of help. Well the people in the above examples all have jobs although it's true some are struggling. But just to prove my point here is another example.
Mr. Deep and I went to an outside bar/restaurant on a recent Sunday afternoon. Most of the tables were in the full sun but one very large table was in the shade. We sat at the shaded table. Soon after a large group of six people showed up. They had the same dilemma, they wanted to sit in the shade but there were no shaded tables. So we said they could sit with us. AND THEY DID! And then our food arrived and we offered them some of it and they accepted. So you can see there is an assumption here that you are being genuine when you offer something to someone.
This is actually one of the things I love about living here. It's easy to be kind. It's easy to pick up a loaf of bread and a coke at the store for less than $2.00 and give it to the guys who keep us safe in our neighborhood. It's easy to grab a cold drink out of the refrigerator and bring it to the gym and give it to the guy who stands and watches my parked car in the hot sun all day and only gets paid if people give him spare change. It's a good thing not waste food that I am not going to use and give it to Christine to take home. It's fun to sit with a 70 year old guy and his friends at an outdoor bar and have him sing Kenny Roger's The Gambler for all to hear. Yes, that happened. It's nice to be nice.
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About Me
- American Expat
- Hello and thank you for taking an interest in my blog. This blog tells the story of some big life changes. First, my husband and I have just moved to Geneva, Switzerland for a few months following a few years of living in Johannesburg, South Africa. The two places could not be more different. I'm excited to share our adventures, challenges and insights with you! My thoughts and opinions are my own.