From Politics to Dancing

I am feeling very sleepy today, but there is a great feeling of anticipation and excitement in the air, just not at all conducive to working.

I have been enjoying doing some different things lately, going to different places and meeting new people. It is everything I had hoped for when I moved into the city, my fear was always that courage would fail me and prevent me from wondering out of my isolated comfort zone. Life is too short and so far I have managed to land safely and happily on my feet after many giant leaps into the unknown.

One of the highlights has definitely been dancing! Salsa dancing, introduced to me by Chris of iMod.  In a dark little nightclub, the sounds of Havana bouncing off the walls, sharing the dance space with a motorbike and pictures of Che Guevara on every wall, watching us attempt to get it right. Those moves, the swaying of the hips. Strangers at the start of the class then a bona fide dance partner after the first successful turn, ending still hand in hand, upright ready for the next beat. There are the good partners and there are the  really bad partners, the ones with a look of terror in their eyes, complete bafflement, no sense of rhythm of not knowing the right foot from the left. I can only cringe in apology, as my stiletto heel painfully meets the top of their clumsy feet! “Imagine you are in Cuba, your boyfriend is watching us and he is getting angry! ” Was probably the best line I heard during my second class; the first time I managed to drag my eyes away from my feet. Like most good things in life, it gets better when you start enjoying yourself. I have to remind myself to allow the man to take the lead, it is a very difficult thing to do, even more difficult than doing three successive fast turns without losing your balance. It is another world inside that place. A sexy, passionate confident world. I have quite a bit to go to catch up to Chris, but I am loving every minute!

This is turning into a very cosmopolitan life, this little world of mine. A British Client from 8 to 5, then some Buddhism, eastern meditation on the yoga mat, to Latin American dancing, each five minutes away from the other! I am possibly too greedy, seeking and devouring one new adventure onto the next.

One day!

2009 elections. Did you vote? It was and is the rhetoric everywhere, it really is wonderful, but there is also a feeling of hopelessness crouched in the shadows. So much speculation, accusations – politicians making complete asses out of themselves. God Zapiro really doesn’t have to dig deep to find inspiration. From the shocking to blatant embarrassing bullshit we have to witness. In the good South African way, hopelessness is quickly overcome by laughter – God save Nandos and South African humour! From Jooste to Malema somehow the chicken is always  first to cross the road!

Helen Zille is a woman who has fast gained my respect, especially when it is not just her words that have won me over, but living in this city, that works, that is beautiful and clean and organised. A city full of proud inhabitants and impressed tourists.

It is a long weekend and I am looking forward to a bottle of Raka Quinary ’04, good company and more dancing!

It’s the little things…

Unexpected April ’09

I have been really busy over the last couple of weeks. Surprisingly it has been good. Somehow I rediscovered a dormant part of my nature. The ambitious part. The strange and quite unexpected need for a bit of pressure, late nights, aching eyes, that thrill when you successfully implement something.  I haven’t been interested at all in my career over the last two years. This was mainly because my head was all consumed with emotional bullshit. I am a very different person at work and had believed that work was work and you kept your personal stuff at home. Bullshit. A bad, distracted headspace takes away drive, energy – innovation, ambition and tolerance. Instead of being inspired and challenged, your legs feel heavy; meetings are slow and painful, feet constantly tapping to avoid your eyes dropping. A rather sad state of affairs. Not the best way to spend the majority of your day.

Last night I unpacked my last box. I think I had avoided doing this because I wanted to remind myself of this great leap of faith I have made, an attempt to keep the newness of my situation. It was strange finding bits of paper with his writing on them and substantially heartbreaking finding all my farewell cards from friends and family, wishing me the best, looking forward to my wedding! We were going to be married this month. The recent beautiful weather was a sad reminder why we chose April. It was going to be on this wine farm. 

I was going to have pictures taken being surrounded by ducks and geese and sixty plus, year old cabernet and merlot vines.  There were even black swans on the estate, which was another exciting prospect for wedding pictures. I wanted us to then have pictures taken on the beach, probably Gordon’s bay. My Dad and brother were going to wear their kilts and I wanted Roses. Yes. Just red roses. I had no idea what dress I was going to wear, all I knew was that I had to somehow incorporate black somewhere. I have countless bits of paper listing the songs I wanted to hear. We had casually agreed on INXS:  ’We will never be apart’ as the first song. Well he was casual I was bubbling like a volcano on the inside.  Obviously I cannot hear that song again. I was nervous about the dance. I knew he wouldn’t think it was important enough to go for lessons. No venue fees, very low food and wine costs for exceptional food and first class wine – would have meant a magical honeymoon. Or did it?

 He never did entirely let me get my way, albeit my way is of extraordinary extravagances – but still on my wedding day, would he have tried to greyscale me even then?

I was really looking forward to making a speech – it was going to be like; “Look everyone, I may have been an awful, rebellious teenager full of piercings and torn stockings – but look at me now!”  In my virginal white, marrying a successful man without a Mohawk!! Ha. Everyone would laugh at my past silliness and then eyes would be wet – as they looked at the beautiful angel I had become! I was going to thank my parents for loving me even when I was a demon and then thank them for being a wonderful example of what it means to be married – the ultimate partnership in life. Even then I think I knew our marriage wouldn’t come close…that would have been a very sad reflection in the years to come.

Ha! Something tells me that when it is my time to wed and should I ever be ready for it, it will be a different kind of affair all together!

Don’t ask me

What you know is true

Don’t have to tell you

I love your precious heart I

I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

 We could live

For a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I’d make wine from your tears

 I told you

That we could fly

‘Cause we all have wings

But some of us don’t know why

 I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never ever tear us apart

 Oh well c’est la vie

Spread the Love – Blogging for Good!

Rox has been working tirelessly on a project very close to her heart. What was once a big idea after many Patron’s in loud bars – is now a reality. After reading her blog for many years I was thrilled to finally meet the boys she wrote about so often, and even more impressed to find they were exactly as she had described. Two helpless sweet boys born into a desperate situation. I also started to understand quite clearly the slow tragic path these boys would inevitably find themselves. Sweet kids living off handouts from strangers, staying on the streets because people see their youth, feel pity and give them money. Then slowly as they grow older and the sweet young look starts disappearing, then it is a fast fall into drugs, possibly crime and God knows what other horrors await them. From innocence to hardened adults. I would imagine it will be those innocent days on the streets, that would be the happiest times of their lives. It really is heartbreaking. There is only one way to break this cycle and that is by getting them off the streets and into homes. Cape Town city is truly a city that works and the amount of assistance and advice Rox managed to acquire is truly remarkable. It is one thing to talk the talk, to empathise, to voice opinions but it is quite another to act and I have been very guilty of inaction for the majority of my adult life. It is different when you see the facts in front of your face, it is one thing to be told you can make a difference but another thing entirely knowing for certain that you can, how and why.
I guess for my own personal development, it is just another case in point of how the people you meet, you have met for a reason. With time and patience, it soon becomes clear.Please read Rox’s post:here and join the FaceBook group to see how you can help!

Devilishly gorgeous

“This is a onetime offer!” He winked at me and led the way to the bathrooms / more like powder rooms of days long gone. He was careful not to lose me through the very loud and crowded wine cellar. I practically floated behind him – that school girl crush never quite leaves you.  There was a piano inside and a pretty blond girl decided that amongst the magic of the evening and because of the full moon – she would now intuitively know how to play the piano. Behind the closed door, listening to the inharmonious bass chords crashing around me I remembered the first time I had seen that wink. A student, long dresses, braids and beads and shoes that jangled – and here I was again, a long silk dress, beads and jangling. Only this time perhaps there is less fear in my eyes. Outside the wind was cold and relentless, making the dancing more fevered, energetic, embracing the madness of moon and accompanying the foreign music. Exotic and tribal. Everything around me was so exotic and beautiful.  I couldn’t resist having my cards read. In a small tent with intense sticks and sequined pillows. Even before I chose my deck, she told me how I make people feel and said it is a lovely gift, she said I will do very well in life if I found something I believed in and focused on that, because I tend to shut out what is not in my heart. Just good common sense I guess – only I did need a reminder. I give too much of myself and don’t take back. She said this will cause sickness one day. That struck a cord, because I have been feeling somewhat let down by people in my life. Those people who claim to love you, in those moments you best serve their interest. It was a reading that struck a cord deep down inside – to the intuitive me, the me that is learning, growing and becoming more resilient as the days go by. Regardless of all this self reflection; Balkanology is one party I will never forget. The aesthetics were pretty mind-blowing, the costumes, live music and amount of organisation far exceeded all my expectations. The reason for such an event – well it’s the resurrection of Milovan Blagojevic the immortal – of course! The perfect end to a perfect evening, flying downhill, past the vines in a hippie combi – complete with curtains – tie dye and the continuation of strange but sultry sounds.

Got to love the diversity, culture and art of this town – let’s not forget the magic!