I love you, I love you, I love you
It’s 3 a.m. (eternal). We’ve had a few drinks (no more). The courtyard is packed. I look up and can see the stars. A random barman is wandering round pouring tequila down punters’ throats. None of this justifies what I was doing.
Dancing to Natasha Bedingfield. Bloody B&Q music, which has been earworming me all day-like this lot was last week. I may already have taken too far the fact that no one knows me out here, which gives you certain latitude and liberty. I will have to use this better in future. A good spontaneous night last night, live band, bit of Prodigy and falafel on the way home.
Since it was too late to disturb the dorm and find my alarm clock, I had to keep waking up and working out if it was safe to go back to sleep again until I decided it wasn’t and got up for today’s wine tour.
But what to wear? On a wine tour?
(You may need to click on this to see it large enough-it’s the Usual Suspects taking over the cocktail bar on my leaving bash). Seeing as Emma isn’t here, this was the next best thing (and I knew I’d never hear the last of it, were I to tour vineyards without her). This t-shirt proves to be the ultimate conversation starter-everyone asked me about it, everyone thought it was cool. I found it a little odd-not because it isn’t an awesome t-shirt, but not one person said one thing about my top when I wore my Jimmy White t-shirt! What is wrong with people?
Wine trip was ace-another good bunch of people and one of the places did goat’s cheese too (that’ll be dinner then). This was combined with some cycling and some dozing in the minibus. Lunch was in a pretty breathtaking spot.
Yesterday’s visit to the slave museum provided me with a new experience. I’m used to travelling and being embarrassed by what the British did and the mess they left behind; this time my Dutch heritage was equally at fault. The Dutch started the slave trade to the Cape-they imported slaves so as to keep good relations with the locals, which was good of them. Until they screwed the locals over that is.
Slaves were a commodity, so the 20-30% death rate that happened in transportation was seen as an acceptable level of wastage-a bit like the leaks in Thames Water’s pipes. The Dutch got white convicts to the do the dirty work-when inverted crucifixion or similar was needed to ‘provide an example’. It was pretty gruesome stuff, and very hard to understand how anyone could behave in such a way.
The museum also had a temporary exhibition on the struggle to end segregation in US schools. One of the building blocks to end the apartheid of the Southern States-battles that were fought 20 or more years after the Second World War. A war fought for the 4 freedoms. The idea of the issue being in ‘just’ the deep South is a bit of a myth; there were a LOT of states. Texas and Florida included, which surprised me.
As the process was legal, the states had to offer a defence. The two that most revolted me were: slavery had left blacks so far behind white kids that educational integration was in no one’s interest. Their approach to education was ‘separate but equal’-the accompanying photos of one gleaming school and one broken down barn/school told another story.
I leave you with the director of schools, in a county with 30 buses to take white kids to school and no buses for the black kids-‘We don’t have any money for a bus for your nigger kids’.
I was pretty chatty today and last night, but was most subdued on the township visit. If you come here (as I think you are all but morally obliged to do when in SA), it is hard to know what to say to the people who live here. It is so far removed from my experience and imagination that it deadened me.
I could talk about the vicious circle of new housing/owners renting out new housing and living in another of these in the garden/more people coming in from the country and putting up more of this housing (shack is an offensive term). I could talk about the renewal projects (sponsored by Microsoft and Steffi Graf) and the hope and community spirit; the fact it didn’t feel dangerous; the self-regulation of crime (vigilante justice); the odd juxtaposition of the above and housing I’m more familiar with; my feeling of where do the government and the NGOs start (it’s not like me, not to at least think I have a solution). I could talk about the light relief of the visit to the traditional doctor:
I could, but it would end up as a trite piece of GCSE geography coursework. Probably a C grade. So, I’ll try and describe the last two things I saw, without any attempt at analysis.
This is the outside of Vicky’s B&B in the township.
This is the inside.
She has a web site and a business that involves the community. There is a pub in a similar style across the street. The rooms are not spacious, but they are clean and look comfortable. There is a PC, 2 TVs and a stereo in the front room. Many people from around the world have stayed here.
These are the kids at the crèche.
About 50 are here during the day. They sang a song about the days of the week, months of the year and seasons. They did this with enthusiasm as they danced around. They followed up with ‘if you’re happy and you know it’ (which everyone knew and joined in). They finished with a very powerful song, which I can’t detail the words of: the substance of it was my body is mine, if anyone touches me and I don’t like it, I have the right to say no. The first and last songs were part of the educational programme.
Dancing to Natasha Bedingfield. Bloody B&Q music, which has been earworming me all day-like this lot was last week. I may already have taken too far the fact that no one knows me out here, which gives you certain latitude and liberty. I will have to use this better in future. A good spontaneous night last night, live band, bit of Prodigy and falafel on the way home.
Since it was too late to disturb the dorm and find my alarm clock, I had to keep waking up and working out if it was safe to go back to sleep again until I decided it wasn’t and got up for today’s wine tour.
But what to wear? On a wine tour?
(You may need to click on this to see it large enough-it’s the Usual Suspects taking over the cocktail bar on my leaving bash). Seeing as Emma isn’t here, this was the next best thing (and I knew I’d never hear the last of it, were I to tour vineyards without her). This t-shirt proves to be the ultimate conversation starter-everyone asked me about it, everyone thought it was cool. I found it a little odd-not because it isn’t an awesome t-shirt, but not one person said one thing about my top when I wore my Jimmy White t-shirt! What is wrong with people?
Wine trip was ace-another good bunch of people and one of the places did goat’s cheese too (that’ll be dinner then). This was combined with some cycling and some dozing in the minibus. Lunch was in a pretty breathtaking spot.
Yesterday’s visit to the slave museum provided me with a new experience. I’m used to travelling and being embarrassed by what the British did and the mess they left behind; this time my Dutch heritage was equally at fault. The Dutch started the slave trade to the Cape-they imported slaves so as to keep good relations with the locals, which was good of them. Until they screwed the locals over that is.
Slaves were a commodity, so the 20-30% death rate that happened in transportation was seen as an acceptable level of wastage-a bit like the leaks in Thames Water’s pipes. The Dutch got white convicts to the do the dirty work-when inverted crucifixion or similar was needed to ‘provide an example’. It was pretty gruesome stuff, and very hard to understand how anyone could behave in such a way.
The museum also had a temporary exhibition on the struggle to end segregation in US schools. One of the building blocks to end the apartheid of the Southern States-battles that were fought 20 or more years after the Second World War. A war fought for the 4 freedoms. The idea of the issue being in ‘just’ the deep South is a bit of a myth; there were a LOT of states. Texas and Florida included, which surprised me.
As the process was legal, the states had to offer a defence. The two that most revolted me were: slavery had left blacks so far behind white kids that educational integration was in no one’s interest. Their approach to education was ‘separate but equal’-the accompanying photos of one gleaming school and one broken down barn/school told another story.
I leave you with the director of schools, in a county with 30 buses to take white kids to school and no buses for the black kids-‘We don’t have any money for a bus for your nigger kids’.
I was pretty chatty today and last night, but was most subdued on the township visit. If you come here (as I think you are all but morally obliged to do when in SA), it is hard to know what to say to the people who live here. It is so far removed from my experience and imagination that it deadened me.
I could talk about the vicious circle of new housing/owners renting out new housing and living in another of these in the garden/more people coming in from the country and putting up more of this housing (shack is an offensive term). I could talk about the renewal projects (sponsored by Microsoft and Steffi Graf) and the hope and community spirit; the fact it didn’t feel dangerous; the self-regulation of crime (vigilante justice); the odd juxtaposition of the above and housing I’m more familiar with; my feeling of where do the government and the NGOs start (it’s not like me, not to at least think I have a solution). I could talk about the light relief of the visit to the traditional doctor:
I could, but it would end up as a trite piece of GCSE geography coursework. Probably a C grade. So, I’ll try and describe the last two things I saw, without any attempt at analysis.
This is the outside of Vicky’s B&B in the township.
This is the inside.
She has a web site and a business that involves the community. There is a pub in a similar style across the street. The rooms are not spacious, but they are clean and look comfortable. There is a PC, 2 TVs and a stereo in the front room. Many people from around the world have stayed here.
These are the kids at the crèche.
About 50 are here during the day. They sang a song about the days of the week, months of the year and seasons. They did this with enthusiasm as they danced around. They followed up with ‘if you’re happy and you know it’ (which everyone knew and joined in). They finished with a very powerful song, which I can’t detail the words of: the substance of it was my body is mine, if anyone touches me and I don’t like it, I have the right to say no. The first and last songs were part of the educational programme.
posted by Poll Star at
5:45 PM
3 Comments:
dude - you need a haircut.
By
swisslet, at 2:29 PM
Can we start a book on how many bangles you'll be wearing by the time you get back? I'm sure they're multiplying.
By
John McClure, at 5:22 PM
Haircut not likely soon, tho the animals may scare the hair off me!
Re Bangles-I got in one of those positions where I had to buy something, and I've no room in my bags for anything, so I had to wear it. It'll be a necklace time I think.
By
Poll Star, at 5:04 PM
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