The South Africa of my Heart

Part 1

Since making public our decision to return to South Africa, the question “Why?” has been asked by almost every person we encountered. Our reasons, of course, are manifold and our own, and we feel no need to justify our decision. There are, however, so many things about this complex, challenging land that make it the land of my heart. In the coming days, weeks and months, I’ll share some of these.

As I write this, I’m listening to Paul Simon’s “Graceland”, which featured a panoply of South African musicians. And that brings me to one of the things I love most about this place: the music! Music is everywhere in South Africa; people sing when they’re happy, they sing when they’re sad, they sing to mark great occasions, and day-to-day ones. Here, people even protest in song. (Hello, toyi toyi!) From truly remarkable professional musicians to ordinary people, the music is exceptional.

As one drives around Johannesburg, it’s impossible not to see the “Reclaimers“, pulling their heavy carts through the traffic. Since there is no official sorting of rubbish into general waste and recyclables in this city, these self-appointed recyclers sift through rubbish bins and sort out all the recyclable plastic, which they then trade for cash. It’s tough, thankless work, but it’s a living. And these (mostly) men help to control plastic waste in the city. Want to know more, watch this short doco: https://youtu.be/9jiFwq0kEN0?si=PUlxKQhbnNfkuQw8

As autumn settles in over the South African countryside, the cosmos blooms along roadsides and in fields across the country. Since I was a very small child, I’ve loved these delicate pink and white blooms that wilt as soon as they’re picked. I know this, because I always made my mother stop to pick me bunches, only to have them sad and limp by the time we got back to the car. I loved them then, and I love them now. And they’re in bloom everywhere right now!

A ubiquitous scene (and sound) in Johannesburg is that of the mielie (ears of corn)ladies, plying their wares from street to street, sometimes carried in baskets and bags on their heads, and sometimes in shopping trolleys. And all the while they cry, “Green mielies! Sweet green mielies!” This is the sound of my childhood, and my (now) adulthood. These women inspire awe through their sheer dedication to earning a basic living, often for decades on end in a particular suburb.

More to come …!