Going Batty?

I have been rather absent. There’s been so much goings-on in my dreary life, that I just couldn’t muster the time to maintain my blog.

In the past few months I’ve had to move house, I’ve gone through a restructuring at work, oldest son has graduated from school, I’ve become a semi-permanent citizen of the EU states. And oh yeah, I’m full on into The Crises.

Through all of this, I have remained calm, controlled, strong, collected. Gone through each and every change methodically, with clear-cut precision. A pillar of reliability.

Super Woman

(please note – no swearing)

And now that all the upheaval is behind me, I should be relieved, stress-free. Relaxed.

Instead, I feel…well, lost. In limbo. Like something is missing. And frustrated. Mad as hell. At no-one in particular. At everyone in general. I think I’m losing my marbles.

Me, Crazy? Nah

I guess after months of being so…held together, keeping everything under control – making sure BH and kids are sorted, cared for, organising the move, the electricians, the painters, the cleaners – I find it a struggle to now adapt to the new situation.

And all of this leads me to have less patience than I normally have. I am less tolerant than I normally am. Which is not much under normal circumstances.

(again – please note the lack of swearing)

Now the vent.

On good days I cannot tolerate people who criticise (anyone/anything) without having a clue. With my newfound battiness, it’s ten times worse. If you expect me to do stuff, and then crit me for not doing it a specific way, or not arranging it for a specific day, then I feel you should shut your big fucking mouth and fucking-well do it yourself.

If you have a better idea, then fucking-well shut up and just do it. Don’t crit me when you are sitting on your fat ass doing fuckall, except stuffing your mouth like a pig and watching TV. Same goes for the little pricks that pass for my kids.

And don’t make conversation just for the sake of talking. Whatever you have to say must be bloodywell useful or interesting, or have the potential to make a difference in my day. If none of the above applies – shut your trap.

I’m sick and tired of being needed, being depended upon. Can’t anyone fuckingwell do anything on their own without involving me in every itty-bitty-shitty detail or decision in their lives?? When do I get to ask for help, huh??? Noooo. Never. It’s bloodywell unheard of.

I’m sick and tired of the pressure. I just want to breathe. I just want to not worry about every fucking thing. I want a normal fucking life, where I can rely on other people for a change. I want someone else to take responsibility and make some decisions for a change.

I’ve had enough of all this shit.

I need a holiday, and I need it bloodywell quickly, before I completely lose all my marbles.

Not Loony

PS: I don’t think I got my point across. I will have to try again next time 😉

“Kullid Kultcha”

I said my next post would be something positive, and lo and behold…this is IT!! Enjoy 😉

I have been naafi (melancholic, off-sorts, upset, insert more negative emotions here) on-off over the past few months. No specific reason. Just some life-changing decisions we’ve had to make, my health issues, my personal issues.

I think I’ve just been a bitch and I need to stop it. Lighten up. Have some fun.

And I started thinking of what I am leaving behind….which alternately makes me sad, but also happy, and proud.

I have been reflecting on our mannerisms and “traditions” that makes us who we are. “Us” being the “Kullids” (Coloured is the PC-word) in South Africa. The little things that make up our “Kultcha” (that’s how we pronounce it), our identity, the way we talk, how we socialize, and township living.

One of the things I remember with a smile on my face is the “groente karretjie” (veggie carts) that used to do the rounds every Sunday – up and down the streets they would go, honking their horns to let us know what they have to sell that day. “Squashees” and “Wortels” (carrots) and “Dhania” (coriander) and “Mammie, ek het Spinach ok vir jou!!” (Miss, I have spinach just for you). These carts were simple & functional – no comfort or speed considered. These guys were life-savers every time. And once they got to know you, you would be guaranteed delivery of your “pakkie” (package) of onions, potatoes – you name it – first thing in the morning. Now that is service.

Groente Karretjie

This picture does not do our groente karretjies justice – it is way too posh! 🙂

Partying is in our nature. We live and breathe for it. We don’t need any occasion to “make it happen”. A simple “kuier” (visit from friends) could turn into a full-fledged “howza” or “gazi” (house party). All it takes is one house, some friends, a cell-phone (to call all the other buddies), some snacks, and lots of “dop” (booze).

I miss those days the most. Here (Germany) you need to make an appointment to see your friends, you cannot party without informing – and getting the OK- from all the neighbours and maybe even the police. Otherwise you may just get into some unwanted trouble. Too much PT if you ask me.

Howza!

Something else we “Kullids” love doing – sitting in front of our houses and watching everyone drive by. This is called “gesien word” (being seen). This is one way to get a “street bash” started (no need to translate I’m sure). All we need are – grass (or something to sit on – a car will do) and music. We don’t even really need a house. Any strip of grass will do, or any available space where we can “Park” (literally park our cars) and hang out. Oh, did I mention the booze? 😉

Since there are only a few streets where all the “hip-and-happening” people will be cruising on (really, they cruise like in the movies) you are guaranteed to have a good party going within minutes – if you are hip-and-happening, they will stop to say hi…and there you go – party started!!

And don’t forget to dress to the nines. Can’t be seen in public wearing last years’ rags at all. Totally uncool. But of course, you also have to be prepared because…

….From there, we move on to a Disco (also known as a Night Club). For us it was Club Bel Air, or Sewende Laan, or Times4 (not sure if this still exists). Since we chose places which were close-by, we didn’t have to drive far. We could walk. And if you didn’t have a lift, well, there were plenty who would give you one. Our Disco’s catered for our musical needs and style, i.e. no rave or techno. Only house beats, R&B, Hip Hop. Real music 😉

And of course, on Monday, no one would be in the office. Everyone would be sick. “Ek voel nie lekker nie” (I don’t feel well) was the excuse for Monday morning absences. Naturally, after a while the bosses became aware of what exactly that meant (Hang-overs galore) – which meant the fella’s needed to be more careful with the Sunday night parties.

On a long-weekend, we would go to the club for a “16Hour” – we call it that since the disco would end only when the sun came up. For us this was a big deal. If you were not in the “16Hour” you were totally un-cool. Everyone was there, everyone was seen. And your “kit” (what you wore), who you danced with, how you danced, who you hooked up with would be the topic of conversation for the next weeks to come.

And that’s just some things that makes the Coloureds so….ja, colourful. The speech, the mannerisms, the music, the openness, their love of booze and parties.

Boy, I miss it.

Confokulations

Have you ever been in a situation where you felt like you were reacting completely opposite to who you really are? Like totally contradictory to your nature? Have you ever wondered if it’s really true that people only bring out either the best or worst in you?

No? Me neither.

Now I know this might seem like it’s gonna turn out to be an immensely cerebral and interesting post. Alas. I have to surprise you. It’s not

This is a vent post. Be warned. Don’t look for logic or clarity of speech.

I was pissed off because husband didn’t have the food ready at 18:00. Like I asked him so nicely to do. I’d had a really kak day at work – demanding customers and childish team mates just completely drained me. And because of back to back meetings, I never got a bite to eat. Now remember – I am not well (no comments about my mental condition please!!) physically so I need to be fed properly. So by the time I got home I was practically expiring from malnutrition and dehydration, and looking really forward to a warm plate of food. But there wasn’t any (did you catch that exaggeration?)

And I sulked. I didn’t do the adult thing and throw a tantrum. No. I just kept quiet and sulked. Maybe that in itself is throwing a tantrum.

While I was sulking I was having great arguments with him. In my head. “How disappointed I am. How it pisses me off that he gets to sit around watching TV, doing whatever he wants all day – I would love that luxury. That he can’t do just one thing I ask for. That he should take better care of me as the breadwinner. That he has his job and I have my job and we need to do what we need to do” and all such grown up stuff.

I just kept this all to myself. Because it’s sort of obvious to me, and it should be to him. Why should we even be having such a discussion?

Am I being selfish and unreasonable?

My boss expects me to perform – I expect the same from him (him = hubby, in case you were lost). Is that too much to ask? Am I selfish? Should I leave him to do just do what he wants, when he wants, and if he doesn’t feel like it, just ignore it like the elephant in the room?

Sometimes I am selfish and unreasonable. But sometimes I actually believe I am not – that what I expect is just the same as the next guy who’s wife is a stay-at-home parent: a clean house, clean clothes, food when I come from work (and not flippen at 09:00pm!!!) a glass of wine at the ready and the kids needs taken care of.

Is that really too much to ask?

New Cheese?

Well, have I been busy, eh?

Let me tell you what progress has been made in the last month (since my last post, that is)….

……

……….

………………

Yup, NOTHING. Zip. Still at point …..GOING NOWHERE SLOWLY!!!!

I thought South Africa was the third world country. Turns out Germany has its own issues. Like, moving ON and being FAST

Do I sound angry? I really am not. I am so chill, nothing can faze me at the moment.  Que sera sera….

……………………….

Oh, I did catch a cold from a stupid colleague who thought it grand to go into work when sick. Are people really that stupid? She is blonde…..Nevermind, that was a stupid question. And because I don’t do anything half-assed, mine morphed into bronchitis. I am so chuffed with her.

And no, this is not another vent post. Actually I came to share something with you

What I wanted to tell you is this…..I have the possibility of staying here, in Germany, permanently. I have been asked if I was interested, and I said..er…well….ye-eesssss.

Convincing?

Thought not

Here’s the thing – the weather is really kak (I don’t have to translate that word, right?). Making friends is difficult. SJP was more successful getting laid in SATC than I am in making friends. Which is really bad, come to think of it. It’s easier getting a man into your bed than making friends?! Wow. Am I sad.

The family is over there. In South Africa. Stay with me now. Ja, that same family who miss me so much my phone is ringing off the hook from all the phone calls to speak to me (NOT). As for the emails, I just cannot keep up. Did you note the sarcasm at all? Just checking…

And the friends are over there too. Yep, the ones who were beating down my door practically every week to have a glass or ten. When I was there. Out of sight….(sighs dramatically)

Husband wanted to go back, but he is ready to anchor himself if we (me and the boys) decide we want to stay. Guess who wants to stay? Yep, the boys. And I don’t blame them. The education (in South Africa – still with me???) is up to shit, the economy is up to even bigger shit. As for the Government…there is no container big enough for the shit brewing there.

So, what to do what to do…..

I have spoken to many people from back home (obviously not the Dad, brothers, sister, nor friends). Hell am I sad or what???? Ok, let me re-phrase that – I have spoken to colleagues, acquaintances and my cousins.

They are all saying the same thing – STAY. For the same reasons I mentioned above. And that husband may not be able to secure a job when we get back. Apparently the EE act is being revised. No chance for non-black ppl like us.

Honestly, except for the lack of friendships, and missing my crazy family, I like it here. I have adapted. I have become very comfortable with not having to lock my doors at night, not having an alarm, being able to ride a bicycle when I want. Going out at night without worrying about getting home in one piece. Not worrying about my kids’ safety and their future. The active lifestyle.

There are some things about the Germans that do grate the nerves, but those are things I can live with.

Will we be able to really integrate if we decide to stay? Hell yes! Will the Germans ever accept us as one of “their own”? Probably not. Can I live with that? Probably yes.

New cheese? No biggie. Just the next ten or so years that must be decided in the next weeks. I have a very good idea what I should do….for me and my boys.

If you were in a similar position, what would your decision be?

Rather the Devil You Know?

I have just come from my umpteenth blood test.

I am filled with so many emotions right now…anger, disappointment, futility….but the most overwhelming is…I am just plain fucking pissed off. On a scale of 1 – 10, I am at 12. That’s how angry I am

I might have told you that something was wrong with me in this post. And that was weeks ago.  At that point I was already humungously angry since no one was able to tell me what the hell’s the cause of my anemia. I have seen different doctors –  internists, gastroenterologists, gynaecologist – just about every single ~ist you can think of. All that’s missing is a fucking psychologist – because…maybe it’s all in my head, hey?

And through it all I keep telling myself “It will be better as soon as I know“….As soon as I know what? That it’s incurable? That it’s all in my head? That I’ve basically lost 3 months of my life AGAIN???? That I can deal with it AS SOON AS I KNOW?

I dunno anymore. I think this is just the start. Once they find out it won’t stop there. Unless I just have a few screws loose of course. Then the real fun starts 😉

At the moment I honestly don’t care about anyone but myself. I can’t deal with work, I can’t deal with my kids’ issues, I can’t deal with hubby’s issues. I just can’t deal. Because it is all about me. If I am not well, no one will be well. And I will continue alternately moping, then swearing then dancing around like a madwoman. So I have to focus on sorting me out first. Is that wrong?

So my question – is it really better if you know…whether your husband/wife is cheating on you, whether your mother has an incurable disease, whether you have an incurable disease…

Do you think you can fight the devil as long as he has a face? Can we really deal with “it” once we know what and who it is we have to fight with/against? Will knowing make it any more bearable or “dealable”????

I am hanging on….but by a thread. This needs to come to an end.