My Africa......................

The most common question I get asked is my impressions of South Africa, it's a hard question to answer honestly without offending people and it is not something I can be objective about. You see South Africa for me was not just a place, it was the very essence of who I was and how I defined myself. It was a magical place that gave me the values and ideals that I live my life by. The essence of South Africa is more then the breathtaking beauty, of which there is so much, but more of the intrinsic values of the people who inhabit her. Those who go out of their way to be kind to strangers, to help each other. To get off their arse and be nice just because they can. To open their homes and hearts to people that they barely know and may never see again. There is so much good and special within the borders.

I felt trapped while I was there, not just by the burden of travelling with two small kids but by exposing them to the inherit dangers, the crime, the rapes, the muggings, the murders. Thankfully we were spared any of those ghastly experiences and my kids did not see that side which was plastered over the television and newspapers. Corruption is rife. The jewel of Africa is being stripped down and I felt helpless as I watched her slowly being raped. People are starving, they desperately line the streets begging for food. Everywhere I turned someone wanted something from me where it was money or food or to hock me their wares, it was always something.

Growing up in South Africa I was always amazed by the strength and dignity of the black population, stripped of so many of their rights under apartheid they still carried themselves with a grace and dignity that I have never seen replicated anywhere else in the world. The people made me sad, so very sad, living on Long Island in NY I am isolated from crime and poverty and I rarely encounter people who are in financial trouble unless they are unable to make their BMW payment, not the desperation of every morsel of food counting, I live far from that.

I don't look over my shoulder, we have no bars on our windows and the front door is not always locked. We certainly lock up at night and if I am home alone the alarm goes on, but I can drive at night by myself without the knot in my stomach, without the fear and I know that I live a safe life provided I am not careless or stupid. My kids can walk to school and ride their bikes outside, I meet friends for dinner or coffee without a worry.

There was a lot to get used to in South Africa, besides the places I knew no longer being there, besides the food being so unbelievably rich my kids got sick. It was weird having doorhandles be higher and toilets are higher too. Its weird driving a manual car on the "wrong" side of the street. Its weird having people at every intersection selling goodies.

I am awed by the talent of the craftsmen, there is such a glut of artists selling their beaded wire crafts, breathtaking and I was saddened by how the housekeepers are worked for so long and so hard. Old ladies working late into the night cleaning up so we could sit and relax. Women who should be retiring but instead have to work and they do so with a smile. I met so many ousies who made me sad, my white guilt kicked in big time. Its a burden I don't carry anymore.

It was so hard going to try foods that I had salivated for, for so long and the memory out weighed the reality. The one thing that could not be touched was the human connection and the laughter with friends. The real talks and the igniting of our souls as we discussed memories and events often ones we are unable to share with others. I was sadned by how few are left. So few people. Places. Things. Its not my Africa anymore. Maybe it never was.