Sounds of Silence
My whole family passed out by 7:15pm tonight. Means we will be up and rocking bright and early tomorrow. Josh has a cold, the kids are sut after a hectic weekend. I am relishing the silence and enjoying playing catch up with a few friends online. Josh and I saw an unsettling movie last night. It was upsetting to me and informative to him. He thought it was brilliant I found it shameful. The movie was "In My Country" starring Samuel L. Jackson and Juliette Binoche. He plays an American reporter and she plays an Afrikaner woman reporting on the Truth and Reconcilliation Commission after Apartheid. Her accent is exceptional and she truly gets the essence of being South African. The film was hard to watch as there was so much we did not know what was going on during apartheid and so much we did not want to know. Growing up with all the privilages of a white South African background it is remarkable how so many suffered for so long.
One of the greatest reminders in the movie was the generosity of the South African spirit. No-one leaves my home empty handed, and I rarely leave my SA friends homes without some padkos (food for the road) or something along those lines. There is a side of me that lies dormant, a side I beat into submission until I barely hear its beat, the part that is so South African that longs to be surrounded by the world I know. The world that no longer exists. That yearns for the bonding of heritage, with people whose stories have followed a similar journey. Looking up at the brilliant blanket of stars in the cool african night. The soft beat of a nation as it dances to a different beat.
I have bonded here in New York with many people, I have friends that I will never lose and acquaintances who keep me laughing and moving forward. There are none who know the beat, who hear the sound of a life that is gone, A world lost forever. An understanding of how the world should be, how people should treat each other. There are times I want to pack up, take my kids to a South African enclave, to Atlanta, to Toronto. But there are times when I just have to face that I live in a big bustling city, a city that never sleeps. I have lost my patience and I doubt if I could live a simpler life. I go to Miami and tap on the check out counter as the cashier asks me about my day. Just total me up and let me out of here I want to scream. Move to the beat of the City no slow drums here, turn it up a notch ot two, I have things to do, places to be. No longer content to watch the world under a Boabab tree.
I feel like a lady without a land, a girl without a country, an immigrant caught up in the winds of change in a foreign land. Not quite belonging but staying here so long that it is finally starting to feel like home. How will I explain to my kids the rainbows of my life, the nation I left and the life I have lived. There is a world they will never understand, I sometimes wonder if I will.
One of the greatest reminders in the movie was the generosity of the South African spirit. No-one leaves my home empty handed, and I rarely leave my SA friends homes without some padkos (food for the road) or something along those lines. There is a side of me that lies dormant, a side I beat into submission until I barely hear its beat, the part that is so South African that longs to be surrounded by the world I know. The world that no longer exists. That yearns for the bonding of heritage, with people whose stories have followed a similar journey. Looking up at the brilliant blanket of stars in the cool african night. The soft beat of a nation as it dances to a different beat.
I have bonded here in New York with many people, I have friends that I will never lose and acquaintances who keep me laughing and moving forward. There are none who know the beat, who hear the sound of a life that is gone, A world lost forever. An understanding of how the world should be, how people should treat each other. There are times I want to pack up, take my kids to a South African enclave, to Atlanta, to Toronto. But there are times when I just have to face that I live in a big bustling city, a city that never sleeps. I have lost my patience and I doubt if I could live a simpler life. I go to Miami and tap on the check out counter as the cashier asks me about my day. Just total me up and let me out of here I want to scream. Move to the beat of the City no slow drums here, turn it up a notch ot two, I have things to do, places to be. No longer content to watch the world under a Boabab tree.
I feel like a lady without a land, a girl without a country, an immigrant caught up in the winds of change in a foreign land. Not quite belonging but staying here so long that it is finally starting to feel like home. How will I explain to my kids the rainbows of my life, the nation I left and the life I have lived. There is a world they will never understand, I sometimes wonder if I will.
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