Stop whispering

‘I’ll be your dream, I’ll be your wish, I’ll be your fantasy’ Savage Garden – Truly, Madly, Deeply

On Monday we had our 1st chance to be alone since we left the UK. Duncan took his mum to work, leaving us with the car and some freedom for a few hours. We drove out to the main shopping centre of East London, a place called Vincent Park. From my experiences so far I have learnt that, unlike the UK, the main shopping areas are nowhere near the centre of town. Driving down the main street in East London (Oxford Street, coincidentally), you can see that it used to be the place to go. But now, as most white people will tell you, it’s become run down. Apparently this is the fault of the blacks who can be seen on every corner, hawking goods of dubious origin. They are trying to make a living like everyone else in this town, but the whites will have you believing that ultimately, the blacks shouldn’t be there. (This is not a blanket statement on all white people of course, just the ones I met).

On Monday evening it was another family thing with me & Duncan, Barbara & Rodney and Lauren & Wayne. We drove out to the biggest thing to happen in East London for the last 12 months: a new casone, restaurant, hotel complex. After a meal we had a wander round the casino. Between me and Duncan we stuffed 70rand into various slot machines and came out with nothing – as is so often the case. 70rand is around £5 or $7(US) – not much to us, but to SOuth Africans it’s a big deal, so much so that we only told everyone else we’d spent 20rand.

Tuesday started warm and so, after taking Barbara to work, Duncan and I drove out to Gonubie, a small resort a little bit north of East London. As it was early we had the whole beach to ourselves and wandered up and down for a while before heading back to East Londona nd the zoo.

In principal, I’m against zoos. Caging animals up in a man-made ‘natural’ environment is wrong. But at the same time I’m like a kid, wandering round, reading the information provided, staring and being slightly disappointed that the animals are merely lying still in the sweltering heat. The place was full of the usual animals (although, bizarrely there was no elephant) and we spent a good couple of hours there, feeding the monkeys and watching the tigers.

On Tuesday evening the family gathered once more at the grandparents for a curry potjie. A potjie (pronounced poi-key) is basically a stew cooked in a pot over the bbq, or braai to be properly South African. A potjie pot looks remarkably like a cauldron with a lid, but I refrained from telling his Anglican grandparents this, I don’t think it would have gone down too well.

The evening was peppered with more racist conversation (mainly from the men of the family, but every so often the women would join in too) and wedding conversations. Apparently when Duncan and I get married (a done deal according to the family – we agree on this point, but didn’t tell them that) we will be required to have two weddings – one in the UK and one in SA. I mean, weddings are just so damn affordable these days, why not throw two of the things. We tried to explain that we were actually planning to elope (Duncan mentioned Vegas, I’m thinking more beach), only I think they thought we were joking. Oh well – they shall discover in time.

Wednesday was the start of Barbara’s ten days of leave and it’s from here on in that family relations became strained. After driving out to the airport to see about car rental, Barbara dropped us at the bottle store to meet Shaun. We had lunch, a few drinks and a few games of pool planned, and it all started according to plan. But, of course, it went slightly off the rails. Shaun, as I mentioned before, is a heavy drinker and he chose to spice up the afternoon with a quick shot of Potency each. It’s along the lines of shooters like Aftershock and I have yet to see it hit the UK shores. If it does, stay away from it. It hit my head, flushed my cheeks, made me queasy and made me giggle – not good considering we were having further drinks with Barbara, Rodney, Lauren, Sandra, Michael and Chris (another cousin) at 5pm. Of course it was all water off a duck’s back to Shaun.

I discovered something new about SA on Wednesday. Drink driving. Illegal it may be, but when the houses are at least 2kms from the centre of town (and the pubs) and it’s too dangerous to walk and no public transport or safe cab company exists, it is the transport of choice for many. And me, a girl still haunted by memories of her father driving drunk when she was 5 or 6, found myself in the back of Shaun’s car being driven back home. Whilst Shaun was over the limit he was remarkably unaffected by the whole thing – which just shows what a hardened drinker he is.

And so we went for drinks at a bar alongside one of the many rivers in the area (yes, I forget the name). But this is no ordinary bar, it is built around/underneath a plane – a plane on which famous 50s/60s musicians travelled. The plane has been restored and we had a look round in envy at the open lounges and double bedroom. I only wish SAA had planes like that.

After a couple of drinks we returned to town and, eventually, met up with Shaun again. More alcohol was consumed including a tequila sour and whilst we were home and in bed by 11 (party animals that we aren’t!) it was with spinning and sore heads and the knowledge that we had agreed to go drinking again the next night.

Thursday was a wipe out, with both of us feeling tired and the worse for wear. We did nothing until the evening when we went to Buccaneers to meet Phil. For those who don’t know/remember, Phil is who Duncan came to the UK with 3 years ago. When their visas ran out last year, Duncan sorted his immediately (mainly cos of me, so that we could figure out where we both stood) and Phil returned to SA with promises of a return. When his initial application was rejected those of us in the UK were upset (some more than others) but, given Phil’s inability to organise anything, unsurprised. Within a couple of months he had a bar job and was playing bass in a band (Lavish) that had started touring and drawing a crowd. He was settled.

So imagine the surprise Duncan and I got when Phil told us (whilst serving drinks) that his 2nd application in June 2001 was accepted, he just didn’t want to come back to the UK. In some ways I can’t say I blame him, he lives about 200 metres from the beach and is enjoying both band and bar life. But at the same time I can’t help but feel that he is pinning everything on the band one day becoming very famous. And we all know how fickle the music industry is. But good luck to him.

On Friday, as our time in East London began to draw to a close, we booked a car for four days and a hotel in Knysna for 2 nights. The car rental wasn’t our idea. We had planned to get a bus to Cape Twon, including a stopover in Knysna. But as everyone kept telling us, the car gave us more freedom, and they all had an opinion on how we should spend those 3 days. They were all things we planned to do anyway, but it still felt like we were being told what to do and when.

So we booked the car, with Barbara paying for 60% of it, and arranged to drive to Port Elizabeth (300kms away) with Duncan’s grandparents on Tuesday morning, picking up the car in Port Elizabeth and driving to Knysna, another 250kms further west. Everyone was happy.

cont…