Well this is going to be a quick blog as I am heading out in a few moments but I just wanted to lament for a bit.
Just shy of a year ago, I was busy packing my bags for a trip of a lifetime into the depths of Africa to visit our nearest relatives, the gorillas. Filled with much trepidation, I was glad for the company of my mate. Honestly I don't think I would have done it without the arm-twisting of my friend.
It did turn out to be a trip of a lifetime, one that made me fall in love with Africa all over again - and subsequently I have been floating around the UK like a lost fart in a perfume factory ever since.
Much has changed in my life since then, with steely determination I am trying to make a go of freelance journalism and am trying to live according to my soul's desires. It isn't easy and at times I feel like throwing in the towel and returning to the stomach-churning world of IT but God-willing I will make my dreams come true. Things are looking up now, so hold thumbs this brief rocky period will soon be over.
Now for the lament...Africa. I miss it intensely but am not sure if I can go back there permanently. Having lived in the UK for so many years, can I still call myself African? People that have never lived abroad may not understand but as I sit here today I am kinda without nationality. I am neither African nor a Brit. Africa changed and so have I. When I speak to people still living in SA, I see this wide gap between their ways and my own. In order to survive in the UK I adapted my ways. I will never be a Brit but there are elements of me that are more Brit then SA. So where do I belong, where do I fit in this global blueprint?
I keep telling myself it is time to move on, maybe Italy. The truth is what I hunt will not be found in Europe or Australia. Africa holds my heart - like a possessive lover, it refuses to let go. I can hear the words "Go home" gently carried across the wind but I am fearful of returning and no longer belonging there.
There are no easy answers to these questions. For now this little lost African will continue to mimic the British ways and hope that one day the spirit Gods will lead me to the place that is home, wherever that may be.
Saturday, 11 October 2008
Friday, 3 October 2008
Winter has arrived
Yeah folks - winter has finally arrived. Gone is the sun that held me in its warm embrace when I was in mainland Europe a few months back.....it isn't fair!!!!!!
So it brings up the familiar old song again, what the hell am I doing living in this country? If anyone has a magic wand, please wave it in my direction and send to a warm, picturesque place - preferably one where the dreaded "R", as in recession, is never mentioned.
Seriously the press over here is obsessed with the recession and are driving us into one. Sure the banks have screwed up by taking risks that any sensible human being wouldn't dare touch but if the media wasn't constantly probing around in their affairs; I am sure they would rectify the situation - hint: look to how Africa does business, loopholes are always being exploited there.
Anyway a levelling out was inevitable after a decade of a bull market. Like tectonic plates under pressure, an earthquake is needed to release the superfluous energy and get things back to normal. This is pretty much what is happening in the financial markets right now. We couldn't have kept going with rocketing house prices; and personal and business liability exceeding capital ownership. We were living in a dreamworld.
Of course now the scaremongers among us would have us believe that it is all doom and gloom. As they say if you hear something often enough, you soon start to believe it is true. This is what is happening now. The media keeps telling we are heading towards a recession and like a self-fulfilling prophesy we now are.
If only people would stop listening to the noise and continue to live as normal. Yeah pull in the financial belt a bit and be more sensible with your money (even in optimistic times this is a wise move) but a full clamp down will only exacerbate the situation. This of course is more true for businesses than the man on the street. The world revolves on money - put simply businesses need to make money in order to maintain their staff levels; invest money and of course prop up the banks with financial trading. When the spend stops; companies fold, people lose their jobs and the domino effect happens.
The morale of the story: Well, live a financially responsible life but don't let the economic winter rule your life. Summer will roll around again soon enough, once the markets have stabilised. It may be a bit of a rough ride for now but think about it this way, what it is doing is making us all think about the way we spend our money - this cannot be a bad thing.
Now if only we could be guaranteed of a proper summer in the UK next year, with warm weather and sunshine - it might actually make me reconsider moving from this country but unlike the financial market where we will eventually see summer again; it does seem improbable.
So it brings up the familiar old song again, what the hell am I doing living in this country? If anyone has a magic wand, please wave it in my direction and send to a warm, picturesque place - preferably one where the dreaded "R", as in recession, is never mentioned.
Seriously the press over here is obsessed with the recession and are driving us into one. Sure the banks have screwed up by taking risks that any sensible human being wouldn't dare touch but if the media wasn't constantly probing around in their affairs; I am sure they would rectify the situation - hint: look to how Africa does business, loopholes are always being exploited there.
Anyway a levelling out was inevitable after a decade of a bull market. Like tectonic plates under pressure, an earthquake is needed to release the superfluous energy and get things back to normal. This is pretty much what is happening in the financial markets right now. We couldn't have kept going with rocketing house prices; and personal and business liability exceeding capital ownership. We were living in a dreamworld.
Of course now the scaremongers among us would have us believe that it is all doom and gloom. As they say if you hear something often enough, you soon start to believe it is true. This is what is happening now. The media keeps telling we are heading towards a recession and like a self-fulfilling prophesy we now are.
If only people would stop listening to the noise and continue to live as normal. Yeah pull in the financial belt a bit and be more sensible with your money (even in optimistic times this is a wise move) but a full clamp down will only exacerbate the situation. This of course is more true for businesses than the man on the street. The world revolves on money - put simply businesses need to make money in order to maintain their staff levels; invest money and of course prop up the banks with financial trading. When the spend stops; companies fold, people lose their jobs and the domino effect happens.
The morale of the story: Well, live a financially responsible life but don't let the economic winter rule your life. Summer will roll around again soon enough, once the markets have stabilised. It may be a bit of a rough ride for now but think about it this way, what it is doing is making us all think about the way we spend our money - this cannot be a bad thing.
Now if only we could be guaranteed of a proper summer in the UK next year, with warm weather and sunshine - it might actually make me reconsider moving from this country but unlike the financial market where we will eventually see summer again; it does seem improbable.
Wednesday, 10 September 2008
Big Bang Experiment
I must admit I am slightly disappointed, no make that very disappointed. The media has been abuzz with speculation about the "Big Bang" experiment in Switzerland - it could spell the end of the earth, or at least Switzerland.
Visions of all those chocolate box houses and cows flying through the air flooded my mind as I envisioned our dear Swiss friends being sucked into a man-induced black hole and what happened...nothing. Not even a slight earth tremor.
Granted it would have been quite unpleasant to have a big nothingness parking off in the middle of Europe where Switzerland used to be and I would be upset not to eat Swiss chocolate again, but hey if you are going to spend £5bn on a mega project at least make sure it produces something that the rest of the world can enjoy - after all there is nothing entertaining on TV these days.
But no all those little boffins are dancing around shouting success because they managed to send a proton beam around a tunnel hidden 100m beneath the earth's surface. Really cool dudes, but honestly does the result really justify the cost?
What difference would it make if we understood the Big Bang theory or at least have a definitive answer to the question - what is mass?
It certainly wouldn't put food on the plate of starving children, patch up the hole in the ozone layer or create a cure for cancer. Personally I think the money would be better spent on things that matter today. I am not claiming to be the biggest tree hugger out there, it does annoy me though when I see conglomerates that could make a difference wasting millions on proving inconsequential theories.
Even if they do succeed, what does it actually mean for us lowly plebs? Science textbooks will get updated but life will carry on as normal, none of the important issues facing the world will be resolved. My worse fear is that this experiment might give scientists ideas on how to create new types bombs or weapons. After all, that is what happened when some genius discovered how to split an atom. So I ask yet again, is the cost of this experiment justifiable?
Visions of all those chocolate box houses and cows flying through the air flooded my mind as I envisioned our dear Swiss friends being sucked into a man-induced black hole and what happened...nothing. Not even a slight earth tremor.
Granted it would have been quite unpleasant to have a big nothingness parking off in the middle of Europe where Switzerland used to be and I would be upset not to eat Swiss chocolate again, but hey if you are going to spend £5bn on a mega project at least make sure it produces something that the rest of the world can enjoy - after all there is nothing entertaining on TV these days.
But no all those little boffins are dancing around shouting success because they managed to send a proton beam around a tunnel hidden 100m beneath the earth's surface. Really cool dudes, but honestly does the result really justify the cost?
What difference would it make if we understood the Big Bang theory or at least have a definitive answer to the question - what is mass?
It certainly wouldn't put food on the plate of starving children, patch up the hole in the ozone layer or create a cure for cancer. Personally I think the money would be better spent on things that matter today. I am not claiming to be the biggest tree hugger out there, it does annoy me though when I see conglomerates that could make a difference wasting millions on proving inconsequential theories.
Even if they do succeed, what does it actually mean for us lowly plebs? Science textbooks will get updated but life will carry on as normal, none of the important issues facing the world will be resolved. My worse fear is that this experiment might give scientists ideas on how to create new types bombs or weapons. After all, that is what happened when some genius discovered how to split an atom. So I ask yet again, is the cost of this experiment justifiable?
Friday, 29 August 2008
Following the sun
Hi Folks,
Sorry I’ve been MIA – missing in action to those of you that don’t watch war movies, but I escaped from gloomy old London for a while to bask in the sunshine that smiles over mainland Europe at this time of year. Yup as in summer time, something this miserable little island doesn’t seem to do.
My apologies for whining, but I think that the UK and Ireland have a competition each year to see who can have the wettest, coldest and greyest summer. My only thought is what the hell the prize could be?
I haven’t seen sun for so many years that when I looked in the mirror I actually thought I had caught some strange disease but slowly it dawned on me, “Oh yeah, so this is what I look like with a tan”.
The holiday was absolutely brilliant, my Mom flew over from South Africa and we took a coach trip across Europe. Admittedly it isn’t my first choice when travelling and I was sceptical at first, but it does eliminate the hassle of planning. (Something I have never been very good at.)
I will blog soon about the mini adventures we had; how I fell head over hills in love with Italy; had to be coaxed out of the Sistine Chapel by my mom as I stood mesmerised by the genius of Michelangelo; how I met an Eskimo and some cringingly genuine Afrikaners who made me realise why I left South Africa – and of course write about the beauty that is Europe and her people, but it will take time to round up all my thoughts and remember what happened in which country.
For now I am treasuring my memories of a fantastic trip, made better by sharing it with my mom. The truth is I have realised that I don’t want to live in this cold, dull place anymore. I want the sun to wrap its warm arms around me and for my form to cast a shadow when I walk down the street. I want to feel energised by the heat and then be lulled into a contented calm by the sun sinking beyond the sparkling blue water of the sea – assisted of course by an ice cold chardonnay.
So instead of yearning for this fantasy I have decided that it is time to move on yet again. I have my writing obligations but they are possible to fulfil from any geographical location and I am also considering doing a TEFL course to supplement my income. Oh yeah, it is official I am totally out of IT – yippee!
My current consternation is where to live. Italy keeps popping up in my mind, preferably the Riviera. It could be one hell of an adventure after all I don’t speak the language and for some unknown reason every time I try, German slips out of my mouth. I know very little about the country except for Milan being a shoe-aholic heaven and the bureaucracy is very confusing.
This time though I am not going to just toy with the idea of moving – I can hear my friends laughing at me singing an old familiar song. I am determined to get out of Dodge so I have set myself a goal. This time next year I will have settled into a warmer life; sipping a chardonnay while watching the sun set over the ocean – preferably with a tall, dark handsome man. I will chuckle quietly to myself as I think of my poor friends back in the UK cursing yet another dull, drizzly day and thank my lucky stars for being able to live in a such beautiful place.
Sorry I’ve been MIA – missing in action to those of you that don’t watch war movies, but I escaped from gloomy old London for a while to bask in the sunshine that smiles over mainland Europe at this time of year. Yup as in summer time, something this miserable little island doesn’t seem to do.
My apologies for whining, but I think that the UK and Ireland have a competition each year to see who can have the wettest, coldest and greyest summer. My only thought is what the hell the prize could be?
I haven’t seen sun for so many years that when I looked in the mirror I actually thought I had caught some strange disease but slowly it dawned on me, “Oh yeah, so this is what I look like with a tan”.
The holiday was absolutely brilliant, my Mom flew over from South Africa and we took a coach trip across Europe. Admittedly it isn’t my first choice when travelling and I was sceptical at first, but it does eliminate the hassle of planning. (Something I have never been very good at.)
I will blog soon about the mini adventures we had; how I fell head over hills in love with Italy; had to be coaxed out of the Sistine Chapel by my mom as I stood mesmerised by the genius of Michelangelo; how I met an Eskimo and some cringingly genuine Afrikaners who made me realise why I left South Africa – and of course write about the beauty that is Europe and her people, but it will take time to round up all my thoughts and remember what happened in which country.
For now I am treasuring my memories of a fantastic trip, made better by sharing it with my mom. The truth is I have realised that I don’t want to live in this cold, dull place anymore. I want the sun to wrap its warm arms around me and for my form to cast a shadow when I walk down the street. I want to feel energised by the heat and then be lulled into a contented calm by the sun sinking beyond the sparkling blue water of the sea – assisted of course by an ice cold chardonnay.
So instead of yearning for this fantasy I have decided that it is time to move on yet again. I have my writing obligations but they are possible to fulfil from any geographical location and I am also considering doing a TEFL course to supplement my income. Oh yeah, it is official I am totally out of IT – yippee!
My current consternation is where to live. Italy keeps popping up in my mind, preferably the Riviera. It could be one hell of an adventure after all I don’t speak the language and for some unknown reason every time I try, German slips out of my mouth. I know very little about the country except for Milan being a shoe-aholic heaven and the bureaucracy is very confusing.
This time though I am not going to just toy with the idea of moving – I can hear my friends laughing at me singing an old familiar song. I am determined to get out of Dodge so I have set myself a goal. This time next year I will have settled into a warmer life; sipping a chardonnay while watching the sun set over the ocean – preferably with a tall, dark handsome man. I will chuckle quietly to myself as I think of my poor friends back in the UK cursing yet another dull, drizzly day and thank my lucky stars for being able to live in a such beautiful place.
Tuesday, 1 July 2008
The secret's out
Pop open that bottle of champagne!
I have finally finished both my short story, and an article I was writing for a magazine. I feel totally relieved at completing both of them, and incredibly happy that the editor seems pleased with my article submission. (Sorry had to brag)
Shew, I can start being sociable again. It has been nearly two weeks since I went out and had some silliness with my mates. I've practically forgotten that there was a world outside the four walls of my flat.
I am pretty chuffed with myself though, the short story was really difficult to write. To summarise it is loosely based on the life of someone who escaped to South Africa, only to get caught up in the xenophobic madness that happened a while back. Apart from being the first fictional story I have written, it was emotionally draining at times. I actually couldn't sleep after writing a particularly disturbing scene but I am back. Happy, bouncy and looking for an adventure - and strangely enough eager to write more stories. My mind is racing with ideas and my fingers itching to type.
No one warns you that writing is incredibly addictive. It is though. It is like having an secret affair. You drop off the face of the earth for a few hours, or days and disappear into a fantasy world of your own creation. Your mind can race freely and rules of the common man no longer exist. Afterwards you are in a state of bliss and no one can understand why.
My dilemma now is whether to turn the story into a book, it cries out for more details, descriptions of the land and for character development - or to write another story which has been buzzing around in my head for a while. Perhaps I'll write a steamy romance novel, or a book about the life of a 30-something girl (trust me that can be very amusing at times). I don't know, I think that I'll just sit down quietly at my PC and let my mind wander back into fantasy land. One things for certain, this is one affair I don't intend ending.
I have finally finished both my short story, and an article I was writing for a magazine. I feel totally relieved at completing both of them, and incredibly happy that the editor seems pleased with my article submission. (Sorry had to brag)
Shew, I can start being sociable again. It has been nearly two weeks since I went out and had some silliness with my mates. I've practically forgotten that there was a world outside the four walls of my flat.
I am pretty chuffed with myself though, the short story was really difficult to write. To summarise it is loosely based on the life of someone who escaped to South Africa, only to get caught up in the xenophobic madness that happened a while back. Apart from being the first fictional story I have written, it was emotionally draining at times. I actually couldn't sleep after writing a particularly disturbing scene but I am back. Happy, bouncy and looking for an adventure - and strangely enough eager to write more stories. My mind is racing with ideas and my fingers itching to type.
No one warns you that writing is incredibly addictive. It is though. It is like having an secret affair. You drop off the face of the earth for a few hours, or days and disappear into a fantasy world of your own creation. Your mind can race freely and rules of the common man no longer exist. Afterwards you are in a state of bliss and no one can understand why.
My dilemma now is whether to turn the story into a book, it cries out for more details, descriptions of the land and for character development - or to write another story which has been buzzing around in my head for a while. Perhaps I'll write a steamy romance novel, or a book about the life of a 30-something girl (trust me that can be very amusing at times). I don't know, I think that I'll just sit down quietly at my PC and let my mind wander back into fantasy land. One things for certain, this is one affair I don't intend ending.
Friday, 13 June 2008
All boozed out
I think my liver hates me. It wasn't my fault honest, how was I to know that I was drinking from the glass of eternal wine. Hmmm.... it could also have something to do with a week of farewells and reunions.
It started off quite innocently last Friday night. As usual I was lounging around in my old tracksuit pondering the meaning of life when Miss C suggested I join her and a couple of mates for drinks in Hammersmith. Not wanting to be anti-social I quickly threw on the glad rags and war paint, and dashed for the tube not wanting to miss happy hour.
It all started to go downhill when my old work crowd started to pour into the bar. I knew I was in trouble the minute my old partner in crime entered and shouted "Scampi!" giving me the biggest hug ever. (And no I am not going to explain why he calls me Scampi.)
The evening passed by in a blur of champagne and much silliness, including my mates trying to pull a guy on my behalf - nice try guys! We were reliving the good ol' days and it was brilliant!
Lured by the promise of food the next morning, I ignored the marching band that had taken up residence in my head and bravely ventured out to my mates place. Two cups of espresso, one sausage roll later I was back in action ready for farewell party number 1.
Last night was the last of the farewells (for this month anyway) - it was tame in comparison to some of the parties we have had but the booze did flow steadily. Oh and thanks to the guys for leaving the image of them dressed in women's clothes and high heels imprinted on my mind forever!
Having woken up with another hangover this morning I have decided to give up the booze. I seriously need to do some work and I am unable to write anything when my brain is mush. So I intend going into hermit mode and letting my liver heal.
Well - until next week anyway.
It started off quite innocently last Friday night. As usual I was lounging around in my old tracksuit pondering the meaning of life when Miss C suggested I join her and a couple of mates for drinks in Hammersmith. Not wanting to be anti-social I quickly threw on the glad rags and war paint, and dashed for the tube not wanting to miss happy hour.
It all started to go downhill when my old work crowd started to pour into the bar. I knew I was in trouble the minute my old partner in crime entered and shouted "Scampi!" giving me the biggest hug ever. (And no I am not going to explain why he calls me Scampi.)
The evening passed by in a blur of champagne and much silliness, including my mates trying to pull a guy on my behalf - nice try guys! We were reliving the good ol' days and it was brilliant!
Lured by the promise of food the next morning, I ignored the marching band that had taken up residence in my head and bravely ventured out to my mates place. Two cups of espresso, one sausage roll later I was back in action ready for farewell party number 1.
Last night was the last of the farewells (for this month anyway) - it was tame in comparison to some of the parties we have had but the booze did flow steadily. Oh and thanks to the guys for leaving the image of them dressed in women's clothes and high heels imprinted on my mind forever!
Having woken up with another hangover this morning I have decided to give up the booze. I seriously need to do some work and I am unable to write anything when my brain is mush. So I intend going into hermit mode and letting my liver heal.
Well - until next week anyway.
Wednesday, 4 June 2008
The Global Village
Have you ever noticed how dependent we've become on the Internet?
Remember the days when we used to communicate with loved ones in far away places by snail mail and the occasional expensive telephone call. I used to love getting letters from my friends in the States or in different cities around South Africa. Times have changed.
Just yesterday I spent most of the day "chatting" online to my mates. It is amazing - they are scattered around the world and yet I can have proper conversations with them without having to wait for the postman. There is no excuse for losing touch with people anymore.
Facebook has enabled us to get in contact with people from our past lives. People long forgotten from primary school to old work colleagues. Of course the great thing is that you don't actually need to have a proper conversation with them - a poke every now and then will suffice.
Some of my friends have had affairs that began online. One of whom ended up marrying the guy. The Internet has provided us with the perfect excuse for never having to leaving the house and actually physically interacting with people. I know people whose entire social life is based on Internet communities.
The Internet has allowed the world to become a truly global village.
As grateful as I am for being able to talk to my friends and family far away, I still feel a yearning for the good ol' days. We can chat to one another at a push of a button and yet people are more isolated then ever before. We have become a village of single entities - each absorbed in their own little worlds. A global village in name only.
Remember receiving a call from a friend in distress and rushing over to comfort them? Remember dropping in at a friend's place for a cup of tea and a good chat? Remember families having dinners together and not in front of the TV? Kids nowadays rush through their food and then lock themselves away in their rooms to chat to their mates online, while the parents return to their computers to continue working.
Have we forgotten how to experience real life instead of just observing it through a television screen or on the Internet?
Remember the days when we used to communicate with loved ones in far away places by snail mail and the occasional expensive telephone call. I used to love getting letters from my friends in the States or in different cities around South Africa. Times have changed.
Just yesterday I spent most of the day "chatting" online to my mates. It is amazing - they are scattered around the world and yet I can have proper conversations with them without having to wait for the postman. There is no excuse for losing touch with people anymore.
Facebook has enabled us to get in contact with people from our past lives. People long forgotten from primary school to old work colleagues. Of course the great thing is that you don't actually need to have a proper conversation with them - a poke every now and then will suffice.
Some of my friends have had affairs that began online. One of whom ended up marrying the guy. The Internet has provided us with the perfect excuse for never having to leaving the house and actually physically interacting with people. I know people whose entire social life is based on Internet communities.
The Internet has allowed the world to become a truly global village.
As grateful as I am for being able to talk to my friends and family far away, I still feel a yearning for the good ol' days. We can chat to one another at a push of a button and yet people are more isolated then ever before. We have become a village of single entities - each absorbed in their own little worlds. A global village in name only.
Remember receiving a call from a friend in distress and rushing over to comfort them? Remember dropping in at a friend's place for a cup of tea and a good chat? Remember families having dinners together and not in front of the TV? Kids nowadays rush through their food and then lock themselves away in their rooms to chat to their mates online, while the parents return to their computers to continue working.
Have we forgotten how to experience real life instead of just observing it through a television screen or on the Internet?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
