Experiencing A Slight Change In Pressure

My options are limited:

1) Take an aimless walk around the factory

2) Phone a friend

3) De-scale the kettle

I've already done 1 and 2, and option 3 will have to wait a while, as I'm letting the water cool down for my umpteenth super-sized cup of green tea. No one should have to be at work at 4 o' clock on a Sunday afternoon. I'd rather be sitting outside with the sun on my face, reading the Sunday newspaper. But eh, you can't always do what you want. If you could have, free will would have lost it's novelty years ago.

All the white men who work nightshift here look like pedophiles with hidden collections of kitty and kiddy porn in their basements. And toy trains. I greet them with a friendly smile, but from afar, in fear that they might smell me. There's a younger nightshift guy who looks like a really scary Wolverine. Imagine Wolverine on meth for 6 days straight, lost in an industrial area. Wearing dark blue overalls. Scary people.

Yesterday, I took a manic drive from work to home to Pretoria, making my way to a non-compulsory JET Q&A session at the Embassy. Initially, I decided to go to check out my fellow jets, but in the end the gathering proved to be informative. Fortunately or unfortunately (I've yet to make up my mind), I've been researching Japan/JET like a crazylady for almost a year now. My brain is super-saturated with island info. Please, I'm looking for a distraction. Tell me a story, or invite me to something.

Time to de-scale that kettle, I think.

Sunrise in Bronkhorstspruit, Moonrise in Delta Park

Afrikaners is Plesierig

What I do when I visit my parents:
1) Eat as much candy as I can
2) Catch up on all my internet time (because work days does not allow for tea, lunch or casual surfing)

I've also been catching up on reading alternative Afrikaans online articles. Die boys (and the occasional skurwe girl) from the watkykjy team had me sniggering in front of the pc like an idiot. Moerse funny artikels. Dis my tipe people - born and bred in die Vaal Driehoek, 'n tersiêre geskiedenis in Pretoria, en 'n bitter siniese uitkyk met 'n tikkie galg humor. Love it.


Verontskuldiging
Alle pics in hierdie post is ge-rightclick, gesave en gesteel van watkykjy.co.za af. Dankie, ek waardeer dit. Spaar my die moeite.

Manzini Memories

Should you ever find yourself in Swaziland, be sure to drive past Mbabane, onwards to Manzini and stop at House on Fire. It's worth every lush grassy hill.

This is also my 100th blog entry, so let's open that bottle of champagne...

Lost Pixellation

Kid's colours. Bright red and turquoise are kid's colours.
It whispers to the brain to move into nostalgia mode. It begs for memories to be recalled.

Orange, on the other hand, is the colour of winter and tigers and citrus and institutionalised crazies, and monks, walking through mountains, holding umbrellas. It's a jacket zipped up to hide 'Easily Distracted'. Not many people wear orange. I'm very greatful for that.

On the subject of colour (a recurring theme), I wanted to comment on the spectacular clouds that were featured in the post below.

All four pics were taken while driving from my current home to my childhood home. It's a two hour drive (if traffic has not completely tapered out) on a long, farmstyle road that eventually curves past the airport. Before you actually hit traffic, you drive through this amazing landscape with a full, 360 degree view of the surroundings.

What I love about that road, is that you can look in four different directions, and see four different skies. 1 o' clock presented a grey sky with darkened smudges of rain, connecting the earth and the clouds. 4 -5 o' clock had a rain of a different kind: every shade of yellow, orange and gold pouring down from the sun, discolouring the clouds at such a sneaky tempo that every time I glanced, it was a completely different scene, each more breathtaking than the previous. My rear-view mirror displayed an innocent baby-blue sky with little white cartoon clouds. Looking over my left shoulder, I could see two rainbows drawn next to each other. A horison filled with colours.

The point is:
I was struggling to keep my eyes on the road. So many other things to look at. And I thought that I could not remember such amazing skies. Then I realised - Approximately a year ago, I was driving to my parents' place, on the very same road, struggling just as hard to keep my eyes on the road, when I was pulled over by cops. Speeding and swerving. I did get a fine, but talked it down, telling him the truth: My eyes were not on my speedometer, but on the clouds.

Because I'm Practical

I really do dig my hair. The supposed Winona Ryder style (huh, Ree?). So I shaved it again tonight. To be more specific, my brother shaved it for me, between snips and giggles. I just realised I wore the same freaking shirt the first day I shaved my head (scalp-skeer). Got the shirt from on of my weirdass female flatmates from my Pretoria days. The girl whose boyfriend worked at a butchery, and was addicted to Grandpas. The headache powder; not inverted peadophilia.

The point of the post (not all that comfortable splashing my face over my blog - especially not in a "before and after!" mediocre make-over setup.)
The point of the post was the following: I like having a mess of hair. So, to be really practical, I timed my hairgrowth that it would be of a messable lenght by the time I get to Nippon. No cutting, styling, brushing or serious washing in my future! Never thought I'd be blogging about my hair. Wonder if I'm slowly turning into a real girl. Best I stop while I'm a-head...

Autumn in BHS

I remember when I moved into Bronkhorstspruit, I saw the letters 'BHS' everywhere; on rubbish bins, on electricity boxes, on streetlamps and manhole covers.
"Wow," I thought, "The local High school must be very active in the community service thing," misreading the HS as "high school". It was, in fact, "horstspruit" (what a cool combination of letters).

I love my little house, I love my sample garden and the missing tree and the fact that I can get onto my roof in 9 seconds and I love autumn and the colours of the dorp and I'll miss it but I shall remember it.

Future Rewards

The sheer goodness of my moodness lately is due to a combination of things. Part of it is the country-hopping expedition that is one day closer every day. I knew that I’d be going to Japan in July, but hearing the name of my future home-away-from-home just added to the reality of it all. In a little over two months (damn, still so far away) my new address will end with Niimi, Okayama prefecture, Japan. I’m as excited as a kid waiting for Christmas, and my current reality is suffering because my head is already on the island. No, my current reality is enhanced; it’s just my work that has regressed from being arbitrary to now being ridiculous. I do try to focus, I just forget to do so sometimes.

They say that you don’t realise how much something means to you until you lose it. So what happens when you know that you’re going to lose something in the near future? You appreciate it more than ever before, while you still have it. A future that involves leaving is a wonderful filter through which to perceive your world. I breathe in every morning and every night. I feel the stable earth of Africa under my feet, and sit hypnotised under the African skies. Autumn has transformed my town into a kaleidoscope of colours. Once again, I love this place. Every visit with my friends and family is a chance to absorb their presences while I still can. In my mind, I’m collecting images and moments. In my head, I’m saying goodbye to everything that means something to me. Every day is lived as if it’s the last – because the last day of this phase is just around the corner.

I should have taken my camera with. But, this having been my second funeral ever, I was a bit uncertain as to the correct funeral etiquette. Is it rude to take photos? Do you say ‘cry!’ instead of ‘smile!’ when pushing the button? In the end, I left it at home, and regretted it within the first 20 minutes of driving:

The road to Nigel is long and straight. It runs in between farms and small dorpies. The red soil has discoloured the tarmac into a pink-brown strip that carries on forever, over flat hills. I drove past a guy on a donkey-cart who waved as I moved to the other lane to pass him. A little bit further on, there was a black guy in a blue overall next to the road, clutching a white, awkward-looking chicken in each of his hands. Harvest-debris rolled up into huge balls of animal feed, so big that you mistake them for cows from afar. Black cows on a pale brown land. Brown. Winter is brown; all shades of brown. Luckily the sunsets are a picturesque pink and blue.

What Does One Wear To A Funeral?

The previous post was about life. This one is going to be about death. The two sides of the existence coin.

My uncle died last Friday. He’d been fighting cancer for a while, but the disease had a good start, and won the battle in the end. My perception of death has been on my mind a lot the past week, and I realised that I’m so calm about it that it borders on being blasé. I doubt that I’m ever going to feel sad about his passing. I even really enjoyed the funeral. Like stepping into an 80’s movie, I watched friends and family hold hands, exchange long hugs, an look at each other with half-smiles, not saying anything. The unspoken languages. I love it.

I suppose I just enjoyed watching people swell with emotion, confusion, relief; death and life intertwined into every moment. People from the past. So many people whose paths crossed with his – I could trace my memories of their family just by glancing around and spotting the familiar faces of people I met years ago. People that I’ll never know. Maybe I just enjoy seeing humans being human.

Funeral moods:

I think the funeral to aspire to, is the one at the end of Big Fish. A big party in the memory of the deceased, and everyone is laughing through their tears. Today’s funeral reminded me of that, just more.. Afrikaans. Subdued. Relief and love: That was the mood. What would the mood be like at the funeral of a teen suicide? Or a car accident victim? Sudden deaths. Disbelief? Heart-wrenching sobs that haunt you years after?

Here’s to happy funerals.

Star Struck

...I'm kinda...

...hypnotised...


I kinda... lost..
..my..


structure of thought


...along the way...

people can be

very addictive
....people...
can feel like home...

From Pretoria with Love

I've been missing this dude a bit. Especially over the weekend, driving down roads that used to lead to his house. Especially after just reading his blog update.

He's in Sicily at the moment, soaking up sun and eating pasta, and it sounds like he's well, which makes me miss him a little bit less and even more.

Cheers dude, I'll see you in 2007. Oh, I changed our destination to one island east from Koh Samui. Check out Koh Panang when you get the chance. We'll have the party of our lives.