Monday, June 7, 2010

My Homeland?

Being in Port St. Johns allowed me to stop and think. We had been travelling  with frequent stops for the previous month. We hugged the coastline stopping at little surf towns, so that our Aussie surfer dude, Brett, could jump out and catch a wave whenever he spied one. The game parks of Tsitsikamma and Addo sported sighting of elephants, black-backed jackals, kudus, vervet monkeys, tortoises, ostriches,  bush bucks and even a rare white rhino at Addo! We met locals who were generally hospitable. I had a chance to visit with cousins in Port Elizabeth that I had met briefly for the first time at Christmas. All of these things were accomplished in a matter of hours or a scant few days. It was exciting and exhilarating, but also exhausting. We pulled into Port St Johns and stopped. We were there  for two weeks. It was a time to relax and process the journey thus far.
Before leaving Canada, I had done a little research on South Africa. I had exchanged letters with my uncle and connected with my aunt. I was aware that apartheid had been a significant part of South Africa’s history. I had heard the song “Sun City”  and watched the video by  Artists United Against Apartheid. I knew that Nelson Mandela had been released from jail and that he was even elected to the position of  President the year before I arrived.  I felt marginally prepared to embrace this new country to me; my homeland. These were all small snippets of the true reality of the country though. As a visitor to the country, I was able to hear some people’s stories, but could not truly understand the reality that had been lived in the climate of fear that had officially reigned for 46 years (it had been part of the micro-climate for many years before that though). My Father had been born and raised in South Africa. His was a reality of segregation of the races. The fact of his white skin gave him privileges not afforded to others of black, mixed or Indian backgrounds. I did not know him and was not able to hear his stories about his childhood in a fractured and violent environment. I had to make do with the tales I heard on the road.
My South African relatives cautioned me by saying “Don’t go off the main roads onto any dirt roads and DON’T pick up any hitchhikers! Be really careful. Call us every once in a while to let us know that you are okay. We would hate to have to tell your Mom that we let anything happen to you.”
I heard “You haven’t lived here, so you don’t know how it is.” A fact that I cannot deny.
An overheard conversation between one of my travelling companions and a German man expressed anger, “The violence is exaggerated!” “You can see the fear in the white population.” “I feel safer walking around here, than I do in some American cities.” All statements made whilst in the middle of the Transkei.
From  yet others, “They are lazy.”
“The maids steal from you,” was a truism put forth from a white woman that had fear written all over her face.
From a white man living in the Transkei for eleven years, I heard that the reputation of violence that the area had was not fully deserved. The incidents of violence existed, but not to the extent that was advertised. The Transkei tried to set up a system of self-government to a certain degree, but the government was just a puppet to the federal government. There was unrest and negative reactions to the white populace in the area. This is where the horror stories started. It was a backlash against the injustices meted out by the white government. The Transkei was a black homeland. The blacks took it back. He happily lived and worked there though.
My experiences in the Transkei did not reflect this violence. I found people friendly, with smiles and hellos prevalent as you passed them in the street.  As I bathed one morning on our hike, I looked up to see cows wander  past. The (black) shepherd that was tending them smiled and waved shyly as he followed his cattle.  I felt it was a beautiful moment that struck through all the horror stories that had been rained upon me. I felt cleansed in body and mind. I know that atrocities happened in ugly numbers and that fostered a state of fear and anger in the population. In my transient way, I tried to understand and move through this world the best that I could.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

I Love Your Blog!

 Jingle tagged me in a game and I am game to play along.

10 Things I love:

  1. My children (even when they drive me nuts)
  2. My Mother for always being there for me and believing in me even when she hasn't always agreed with my choices or decisions
  3. My sister for always listening to my sorrows and woes, providing me with a best friend forever and never forgetting that a little bit of fun is the best medicine in life
  4. My friends for allowing me the tears that needed to be shed , the time to explain what I needed to pour out of my soul and the wine to wash it down with
  5. My garden for giving me much needed meditation, direction and beauty
  6. Wellspring - as they provided me with so much emotional support when I was lost and soul-less. The hugs, smiles, soggy shoulders and kleenex helped to keep me here.
  7. Yoga for the way it lets the world just wash through me and make it alright. Plus hip-openers are just a beautiful thing. Ohm... ;)
  8. Sunshine for putting a smile on my face all the year long
  9. Seafood, LOOVVVEEEE any kind, all kinds, YUM!!!!!
  10. Poetry and the creative expression that comes with it (check out Jingle's Thursday poetry rally if you are a fan too!) Really, just writing in general. I love my expressions of writing so that I can release what trundles along in my brain. I love these people down here's writing because it makes me laugh, cry and generally smile. Words just fill me up and are generally just great!!!

I am going to tag;

Whether you play or not, is up to you. I just wanted to say that I like you! Have a fantabulous day!!

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Poetry Awards

 The Most Perfect Poet Award

The Most Confidant Poet Award 

The Most Far-Sighted Poet Award

~~~

I reaped much honour
and humbly accept 
poetry awards
that 
represent 
a love in my life
I am not afraid to share.

You Are The Most Beautiful Friend Award

I accept this, but have to say that you Ji are the most beautiful friend. 
Thank you for being you
and for hosting the poet's rally each week.
It is a highlight for me and many others.
I bow down to your perserverance
and talent.
Thank you!!!

A day of Gathering

Sulky sunshine threatens fun in park.



I am playing along at Six Word Saturday again. Sigh, another day of gray clouds, when all we want is a few rays of Mr.Sun to add fun to our day. The Gathering on the Green is today in Wortley Village. We have been the last few years and the girls love it, to say nothing of Mommy's excitement at getting out of the house. It is a free event that has face painting  and creative activities for the children, as well as artisans, a plant sale by the local horticultural society, a silent auction,  live music and food. Yippee! We are going regardless and just going to hold our breath that rain clouds do not spoil our fun. Have a great Saturday!

Friday, June 4, 2010

My Moon Flower - Oenothera triloba

Oenothera triloba

Ha, I have found you my pretties! I have been calling these beautiful flowers "Moon Flowers" for lack of a better name since I found them in my garden. I should explain that when we purchased the house I live in at present, it was obvious that the original owners were avid gardeners. Unfortunately the gentleman that bought the house from those folks, when they could not tend it any further, was not in possession of a green thumb. He lived in the house for approximately a year, then rented it out for about a year. When we moved in and the snow melted, I was excited and aghast. The remains of a well-manicured garden and lawn was hidden underneath weeds and shrubbery that was reeking havoc with  the light expectations of the straggling plants underneath. I found a bedraggled peony, that I still cannot get to bloom, abysmal rhubarb, day lilies by the wagon load and WEEDS! I would never have guessed that thistles could flourish so well in the middle of the city.

So over a long period of time, I attacked the project that was my garden. I gave a very aggressive pruning to a shrub that was almost lying on the ground from a lack of pruning and winter snow that punished the untamed boughs. With the addition of light and space, I found many plants, some of which I had to question their lineage. Was that a valid plant or noxious weed? Some I left to explore, some were pulled in the name of order. The Oenothera triloba hid for a while, which I am glad of. It looks remarkably like a dandelion, so would have been pulled post haste. The real beauty and show of this special plant happens at night though. As day winds to a close and dusk encroaches, this relative of the evening primrose family struts its stuff. Literally right before your eyes, you can watch the flowers open! They only last for one night and close up by mid-morning the next day. Do not rue the passing of the flower in too short a span though, as these plants continue to bloom most of the summer. It also makes babies pretty prolifically, so you can enjoy them yourself, spread them around your garden, or share them with friends. They will turn up their nose at your gift of a dandelion until the pretty yellow blooms pop open at night. 

Hopefully you have a night full of clear skies where you are. I have to make do with pictures of the outside world tonight, as rain plummets down. May the night still live and hold promise for you...

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails