Brace yourselves.

Brace yourselves Julle Blixems, the Thompson's have been granted residence, Now I wont publicly admit that this is probably due to the fact that C handled the applications and not me, because let’s be honest my ability to hold a conversation in a pub after consuming a Guinness or five is very well documented, but would not have been very helpful here, we would've been denied residence to this fair place and deported faster than JZ emptied the treasury if I had even glanced in the direction of those applications.

The problem you see is that I have an uncanny ability to confuse these poor Irish kêrels to within an inch of their lives when I use my very South African slang words. They get the same look on their faces Mr Bean did when he snorted the lemon juice, and then attempt to lean in closer thinking there might be a chance they would understand what I’d just said better, the second time round, all that does is scare the Bejaysis out of me as you can well imagine and cause C to spit whatever was in her mouth at the time all over our table, this is all extremely funny to us, but just makes the people around us think we are Broken.

One of the most wonderful things about being a Saffa is the language we use almost every day, words like Boet, Blerrie, jislaaik and the aforementioned Blixem are just some of the myriad names and expressions we have, and we use them generously. I mean the look I got the other day when I told my laaitie I was going to give him a klap, by the spectators at his Gaelic football match, was hilarious, although in fairness me angrily telling a child I was going to give him an STD probably wouldn't sit well in any civilized society. I should probably try and be more careful when C lets me out in public.

I have decided that it would be detrimental to my kids upbringing if they didn't at least get taught some of the more important slang words that I was brought up with so I’ll be doing some research in the coming weeks and come up with a few must know words and phrases, so if any of you have any suggestions please let me know. It’s really important to me that josh knows when I say Boet I'm not calling him a shoe but rather my buddy. and that when I ask him to bring me a dop ill actually get one and not get put in a home because he thinks I have early onset Alzheimer's , but that's what you get for having 11 official languages, and everybody trying to make it lekker easy to understand for everyone else.

I’ve mentioned the expat lunches that we have attended in previous posts and it’s at these you will hear some of these words bandied about without a care in the world, 30 odd rowdy Saffas together in a pub is always going to be a jol and they never disappoint, and let me tell you, the look of utter confusion on the barman's face when you shout down the length of the bar " ooi boet how’s a klippies and coke " is worth its weight in gold. It always brings a smile to my face. What’s been especially nice has been how nobody has lost their Africanism. All the expats we've met no matter how long they have been here still sound like Saffas and thats because as some clever person once said ‘Africa is not easily forsaken by her children.

So anyway like I said we have been granted residence which is great, its one moerse big weight off of our shoulders, it comes with many perks, one of which is visa free travel within the European Union. Our first trip will be across the Irish Sea to my best mates wedding. where I will be the best man, I know I know I can’t believe it either, it was while I was writing my speech that I realized I would have to change a lot of the words I was using because nobody in the UK would understand what i was saying, and they wouldnt be alone,  I'm already convinced my spellcheck thinks I'm a madman and those error reports it keeps wanting to send are secretly cries for help. So in the end I removed all the slang, AKA africanisms, and inserted words that are more internationally understood, in other words I had to dust of my dictionary and ask my 11 year old for help.

Soon after the wedding possibly in August over the bank holiday weekend we will take a trip up to Scotland, Back to where C comes from, or rather where her dad was born. But in the meantime I am preparing to host my mother for a few days next week and then soon after my dad,  I’ll have to be on my best behaviour, but it also means I get to see my china's and there will be some good times on the horizon, and a few more people to include into the madness that is our home and daily existence.

Ciao for now

G

A stranger in a strange land.

My previous blog posts have been about our day to day lives, like finding a house, unpacking our boxes and some of the traveling that we have done. Other than a few small mentions here and there, we've almost completely avoided the subject of what it feels like to live, like ordinary people, here. The after effects of a intercontinental migration like this are long lasting and too numerous to mention flippantly, they come in waves of happiness, sadness and frustration. And show themselves at the oddest times. This blog has been hugely responsible for dealing with these emotions as it helps connect us with all of our family and friends; it’s a tenuous and abstract way of connecting but it a connection nonetheless.

What a move like this does is not only force you to look at your partner in a different way, it forces you to look inwardly at your own self. This can be frightening at the best of times, because unlike taking a picture with your smartphone you are unable to put a filter over it. You can’t smooth over the bits you don’t like, what you see is unashamedly you. Immigration forces you to look at yourself with all your bits laid bare, its exceedingly difficult to evaluate ones inner self and to be critical of your shortcomings, its counter intuitive   but that's exactly what I've had to do, it’s been life changing in many ways. You almost instantly learn where your strengths and weaknesses lie, and learn to adjust your way of thinking and your actions to suit. 

Many people have said to us over the last year that those that leave to make a new life for themselves, are taking the easy way out, this is an inaccuracy of epic proportions, in fact I will put fire to the next person who has the audacity to say that to me. This is the hard way out and you only find that out once you've made the move, never before. It takes an inordinate amount of inner strength and pure iron will to leave everything you know for what you think is a better life halfway across the world, almost from the first moment, you begin second guessing yourself, simply because there is no clearly defined path to getting settled.

 Physically settling in is the easiest part,humans are very good at adjusting in the physical sense, especially the younger ones, but some of the people I've chatted to have in fifteen and twenty years not emotionally settled, this is where it gets tricky.  You are born into a circle of family and friends and you grow with them., you go to school and mature with them, so once you remove yourself from it and move you need to create a new circle in a new place. Almost always you have a culture that is vastly different to the one you are used to hence the term culture shock, the easiest way to remedy this is to look for the familiar, we have done that in spades, and the reason is that the familiarity is comforting.

 Modern technology allows us to find the comforts we need anywhere in the world, things like Facebook, where we belong to a group called South Africans In Dublin, has allowed us to meet people either in the same transition phase as ourselves or people who have done it and can offer sound advice. Even the way we live stream our old radio station through a media center brings certain amount of comfort, and Whackhead and sometimes Greg and Lucky into our everyday lives. However the feeling that there is something missing is always there in the background, you know deep down that you are a stranger, and at the same time you know that the longer you are away from your birthplace the stranger it will become.  It may sound odd but the idea of not belonging anywhere is very real. 

It’s important to remember that all this thinking and evaluating is in effect your psyches way of letting you know its adjusting to the new environment, of changing you ever so slightly so that you might fit into this new life, surrounded by new people, more easily. I’ve found myself using words that I’ve never used before so that I'm better understood, I see this in my kids too, all three of them have begun adjusting in their own ways and words slightly and their interests bending to suit their friends. We all crave acceptance and it’s to that end that we make those slight changes.

 I suppose it’s of great importance here that we as their parents don’t let them forget where it is that they come from, it’s in us, but that's because we left at an age where its ingrained in everything that we do. We identify as Africans, and specifically as South Africans. For the kids, they do not, they are too young to understand the significance of their heritage and their place in this world. Unless we show them they will never identify as Africans. Tayla especially, will never remember the time she spent there, and by the time she is old enough to know any better her passport will be a red European Union passport and not the dodgy Green Mamba we all have now.

In the end all this was explicitly introduced into our lives by our own doing, and I know for a certainty that given the opportunity to do it all again I would change not a single thing. We are all incredibly happy, it’s an awesome adventure, and I know that in the years to come when our children are settled in a stable country where there are jobs and there is a future we will have accomplished what we had set out to do in the first place. My hope for them is that when they have children they never need to consider taking the same steps we did, to guarantee them a future.

Garreth


 

The Work Ethics Conundrum...

I have always thought that being a South African was bottom of the barrel. Being from a third world country,  I had the idea that somehow my education, or my work experience,  or my life in general was less acceptable across the board than in first world countries.  I forever put the likes of the Americas, and Europe and Australia on a pedestal believing them to be superior beings for the mere fact that they have had access to better services and systems than I had.

Drawing on this belief I entered into my first job in Ireland a nervous wreck.  I had this inflated title which oozed self-importance and thought to myself that these people are going to be sorry that they hired me because this African girl has more bark than bite.  Was I ever wrong! The job was just that... an inflated title with very little substance behind it.  It was fraught with ineptitude from the beginning.  Every person involved in the project had been tossed in head first and made to swim. There were no life buoys in play,  and the strongest swimmer would ultimately prevail in such conditions.There was no process or procedures in place from administrators to team leaders and each had to play by ear as systems and work processes changed on a day to day basis.  It was a disaster.  I have never in my life worked in such a disorganized state. I clearly survived the initial confusion as I was given more responsibilities after just 2 weeks in the job.  However, such chaos taught me much about the South African and the work ethic of our people in general.

Because of our natural survival instincts and our petrified state of loosing our jobs either due to economic hardships or BEE quotas, we are a very hard working nation.  Workaholics we are. We have finely tuned our skills in such a way that we can optimize our performance in the least amount of time. We get things done.  As a result we appear to work twice as fast as any one else.  This is a mere illusion, but it is impressive to those who don't know the fear driving these actions. In stark contrast we have those who don't sit in perpetual fear of job insecurity and for these individuals,  it is just another day at the office.  Work is done slowly and with the attitude that tomorrow is another day and sometime work is done in complete dissaray.  It is such individuals who drive these disorganized projects.  It is such individuals who drive me mad. It is such individuals that are causing the graying of my once glossy black mane.

Coming into my second job,  I was less nervous,  but still felt because it was another pumped up position, more money, more responsibility etc that they would likely question their hiring choice.  Again,  I am sitting completely in chaos trying to figure out systems and procedures because the last person left without even a how do you do!! I'm stuck with no mentor,  in an Industry I have never worked in,  and been thrown in head first to a bunch of disorganized files and not a single system or procedure to guide me.  It is again a sink or swim situation.  The boss tells me not to stress as next week I will have a more defined role.  Geez!! Next week!!  Do me a favour.  The office label maker has been going crazy since yesterday with my obsessive compulsive self trying to create some sort of order,  how does he think I will live for a whole week without a defined role.

The point I am trying to make here is,  we as South Africans need to forget our preconceived ideas that we have about first world countries. Clearly perception is evil.  This was made blatantly clear by the the sweet little ignorami who actually asked me if I knew what a prawn was. South Africa has a massive seafood and fishing industry.  He clearly was unaware of this believing I did not ever have the pleasure of experiencing shellfish.  I had to actually hide my face in my jumper to prevent myself from laughing at the poor guy.  People have dangerous preconceived notions about Africa and what Africans can and cant do and what Africans do and don't know and what is available to Africans from an infrastructural point of view. If I actually was what I was perceived to be I would be a pig skin wearing, deer hunting, rain dancing, gun and spear toting menace to society racist who has a lion on a leash, no access to electricity, running water, a working sewerage system, a functioning education system, shopping malls and trade produce. In fact If I were to be whom I was perceived to be,  its a damn miracle I am even alive.

First world,  does not necessarily mean better in every aspect.  What we believe as third worlders' does not necessarily translate to the reality of it all.  I have met many a South African who is intelligent beyond belief and they would outwit, outsmart and outplay (yes,  I'm quoting Survivor,  yes we have television in South Africa that we can watch Survivor on, in case one wonders) some of the people I have met here.  We also appear to be on par with regards to processes and procedures in the work place.  The clear difference lies in the amount of money that is available to bandy about.

In conclusion if you are coming into a first world market, I would not be too worried about how well you are going to fare.  Your strong African work ethic and ability to multi task along with your multi-cultural background will lay a wonderful groundwork for you to prosper.

the madness continues...

So as has become the norm lately I sit down on a Monday evening and write my post for the week, this week was no different, except that I was suddenly chin slapped with an enormous case of writers block, I sat there for quite some time but came up with nothing, so I decided to just ramble on about the last weekend and hope none of you would notice.

Many times over the last five months the weather has come up in conversations with various people, one of the questions I always ask is whether or not they have a decent summer and I’ve been assured that Ireland does in fact have a summer. It’s illusive like the "tokoloshe", is illusive, but it does exist. Now For those wondering, the tokoloshe is South Africa's very own version of the Yeti, but more sexually deviant, and more like a midget zombie with a bad attitude. One of the more witty chaps id asked said that last year’s summer was great; it was on a Wednesday afternoon, in July.

All jokes aside we have been told that when the sun does shine and it is warm all the people suddenly come out of hibernation, eat ice-cream and go to the beach or barbecue at home, I truly thought this was an overstatement, it wasn't, because low and behold on Sunday the sun stopped being busy elsewhere and made an appearance in Ireland, the population instantly doubled, our sleepy village became a city in a matter of  minutes, you'd think these people have "go" bags ready for this type of thing. Several ice-cream trucks with the accompanying throngs of beach-goers invaded the foreshore.  It was like Durban north beach on Boxing Day.

It was such a big thing, Mondays headlines read “Yellow object spotted in the sky"

The happiness was infectious, people were out walking, cycling doing all sorts of normal outdoor activities, one of our neighbors threw caution to the wind and had an impromptu barbecue that carried on well into Sunday night, another neighbor took it upon himself to single handedly mow all the grass in the estate, cowboy hat and all. Utter madness I tell you.

We would have been silly not to take the opportunity of a sunny day and squeeze every single thing we could from it, and you would be right, we did and loved every minute of it. fortunately for us our local is an award winning restaurant called the Lime kiln,  it’s an eclectic mix of old Irish cooking with modern techniques and flavors, they also stock a wide range of ciders and craft beer, this ensures a few visits at the very least. it was only once the sun had gone down that things started to calm down and the throng of people returned home, So in preparation for the next warm days I’ve purchased a proper Weber charcoal braai, I decided it would be criminal to go with gas it’s just not South African,

What I found amazing is how a bit of sun can be cathartic, it can wake up the soul from its winter slumber, and takes the freeze out of the bones, it puts a jump in your step and a smile on your face although I think that it might just be, because of me. I was driving home on the motorway the other day and as I do on a nice afternoon, plug in my iPod, open the sunroof and sing at full volume to the tunes that come on, now on the aforementioned afternoon myself and Alanis Morissette were full tilt into a duet of her song Ironic, what I hadn't noticed in my reverie was the car load of young girls id sent into a state of absolute hysteria when the traffic had come to a stop, fortunately REM came on next and that seemed to recover a shred of my dignity, not my manliest moment I’ll admit, but at the very least I had brought sunshine to someone else's  day

     GT                

 

Its Beginning to Feel a Wee bit like Home away from Home

I have found that you get two types of people you encounter when you announce that you are immigrating. You get the nay-sayers who love to tell you that the grass is in no way greener on the other side. They prophesy how terrible life is going to be when you get there as a result of being so far away from your loved ones and the life you know and are used to. They bitch about the horrible weather abroad, the unfamiliar architecture and lack of modern design and about missing the creature comforts we have become accustomed to. They are the lot who believe you have taken the easy way out and that you are a coward for abandoning your country in its time of need. The type who beat their chest and sing Nkosi Sikeleli and wear the flag with pride on national holidays, then pray for the best when economic and political situations present themselves resulting in massive upheavel. On the other hand you have those individuals who are more enthusiastic than you are about the prospects of a new life. They are the ones who would love to get out of their current situation, but unfortunately their circumstances are hindering or preventing them from doing so. They are the ones who believe life on the other side is going to be a magical adventure, a beautiful fairy tale involving world travel, glamorous jobs, eating foreign cuisine and drinking exotic liquors while stroking your pet unicorn in your secret garden on the yellow brick road. They wish you the best and constantly tell you how lucky and priveleged you are. 

The reality in actuality is a good mixture of both. At first the excitement and sense of adventure is intoxicating. I needed to pinch myself on a daily basis to remind myself that this is now my new reality. Mixed in with the excitement is the nauseating stress of ensuring all your ducks are in a row such as organizing bank accounts, social security numbers, tax credits, getting your employment contract signed and your lease in order. Getting the kids into school, licensing and taxing your car, furnishing your home and finding doctors, hairdressers, hospitals and the like are just a few of the mountain of tasks you are faced with and they take up hours and hours of time. It feels as though you will never get through the endless to do list.  After you have sorted your life out to a manageable extent, an eerie calmness overcomes your situation and you are plunged back into the mundane routine of everyday life. The honeymoon period officially comes to an end. Once the party is over, you get to thinking , and you ultimately end up at the heart stopping“ now what” phase.

This "now what" is when the alternative reality really sets in and hits home hard. It is at this phase where you start to realize that you are indeed missing home and you need to constantly remind yourself why you have done what you have done. Amidst the sadness and depravity of it all it helps to hear that someone has been broken into, or that someone has been mugged in a park, because in a twisted sort of way it reaffirms your decision on a daily basis that you have done the right thing. (Don’t judge me… this is simply human nature). 

For myself and the husband, we are mainly finding our issues to lie in the small things that we took for granted on a day to day basis. The fact that we cannot just call over to our friends house to have a cup of coffee and talk rubbish for hours on end, or go for a beer or glass of wine to the pub down the road while leaving the kids with the sitter when you have had a stressful day. Not being able to pop in and visit your mom, or your aunty, or your granny, or attend a funeral when a loved one dies, or a wedding when there’s a marriage celebration, or even go in and meet your friends baby who has just been born. It is these small things that add up and weigh on your mind. It dawns on you that as much as your friends or family miss you, life does not stop without you, it goes on regardless of your absence. It kind of takes your breath away.

 Date night has also been completely thrown out of the window for the foreseeable future. The lack of close friends and family in your immediate vicinity as well as the impossibility of finding a babysitter you would trust with your dog let alone your kids kills any and all chances of a prospective social life. These are the troubles of which you are faced with daily, they sound trivial, but they are very real and can have a serious impact on your well being.

 So, After four months of attending endless hours of work, expat lunches, childrens parties, communion do's, and various events with cousins, and neighbors and the likes thereof, I think we are finally getting into the swing of things and carving out a niche for ourselves. I have met a lovely group of ladies at work. The laughs and conversation I have shared with them on a day to day basis have actually kept me sane through this entire process. They will probably never know it, but they have really helped a foreign girl out by being such a welcome lot. They have made the arduous task of attending prison everyday quite an enjoyable experience and opened my eyes to many aspects of Ireland I would have been oblivious to had I never met them. I also have my Aunty and Cousins whom I have reconnected with. This has made me very happy indeed. I did not ever expect to have a real relationship with these woman again, circumstance would predict otherwise and they have been loving and kind, as if we had never lost contact over the years. I have spent hours in long conversations with my cousin on a weekly basis and even my children will get to know their Irish cousins as their cousins too. A true sense of family being forged with the unlikeliest of individuals. We have also met a couple of South Africans (about 8 of them) who live down the road in the next town. Lunch last week with these hooligans resulted in an epic pub crawl ending in our whole family chasing the last train back to Bettystown in the dark of night. It felt just like home. What a wonderful bunch. They appear to be in the same social situation as ourselves and experiencing the same highs and lows. Because of this we can relate to each other on a level that not many would understand. Also a bunch we would never had come across had we not made our move. I am certain that this meeting has laid the ground for many late night get together's to come, and to this I look forward.

 As Paolo Coehlo once said: 

“Important encounters are planned by the soul long before the bodies see each other”. 

Clearly my soul had mapped out this journey for me long before my consciousness had become aware. So thank you unconscious spirit. You have allowed me to encounter some magnificent individuals. I don't know where our relationships will be in the years to come,  but for now,  they have taught me lessons that no amount of money or privelege could buy. As Irish luck would go, the encountering a leprechaun on Saturday has sealed my fate. My luck should now be turning for the better.

Love and Light

C

I've got a serious case of Itchy Brain.

So our stuff has arrived .........blah blah blah

A few months ago, seven or eight actually, the Mrs and I were having what some would call a "slightly heated" discussion... the  reason for this was that we had vastly differing viewpoints on what should be packed. When the process of getting quotes for the packing and shipping of our worldly possessions to Ireland began, we were intent on sending the whole kit and caboodle which included our two boisterous little pugs Jack and George. This would have been a monstrously bad idea, thankfully sanity prevailed and we decided to downscale.

The thought of down-scaling to a hoarder like me is not easy, there is a valid reason why i hang onto each item and I will keep most things I deem might in the next century come in handy, from screws to used batteries, so it was life changing for me to start going through my things and either sell, give away or simply throw away. I went through waves of panic and anxiety, all for a few meaningless items, thankfully there was no shortage of people who would gladly pay for our stuff and some even happier to get it for free.

While we were going through our things we had loads of little mini arguments because one of us was intent on keeping some or other arbitrary item, I mean I know for sure I will at some point use all seven thousand used batteries and all the random key rings that I have . The reality though is very different. we don't need all these things we have, we like to surround ourselves with stuff, things that we think will be nice to have or will make us happy but they invariably will end up in the same drawer as the batteries and key rings, we would be far better off spending that energy on someone instead of something. 

In the end after the boxes, all 152 of them, were marked, labelled and packed in the truck I signed the paperwork and our stuff was on its way, I walked back inside to an empty house and looked over at our wonderful domestic worker Jeneath who was standing in our kitchen, with tears in her eyes, she said to me "it’s finished now",  I sat down in the middle of the floor and felt more overwhelmed right then, than I ever remember having felt before, for us it was finished, it was the end of the road. I realized then and there how a decision made with the best intentions can often have far reaching implications.

Three months and a criminally large amount of money later the email I had been waiting for arrived in our inbox, our stuff would be arriving in two days, and thankfully on a Friday morning. I took the day off and started the arduous process of unpacking. I was really excited and i knew it would be a lot of hard work, but what I wasn't prepared for was the way I felt about all these things, for most of the time we were waiting I imagined opening the boxes and hugging my stuff, not able to decide what to play with first. (I would have looked properly stupid hugging my bicycle), alas it wasn't the case. Not one of them was worth the hours of thought and planning we put into getting them here. It was all very anti climatic and if you ask me a complete and utter waste of money.

The unpacking lasted for an entire weekend, the kids and Mrs T worked like Trojans, and by Trojans I mean we bribed and begged them the entire time, and by Sunday it was mostly sorted and packed away. well except the 10 or so boxes labelled WTF were we thinking!!, these boxes are filled to capacity with utter rubbish, then the 7 boxes of clothing we sent to charity,  things a mere three months ago we valued and couldn't live without, it just shows how fickle human nature is. although i do think it is the first time in history that someone from Africa has paid good money to ship things to a charity in Ireland. How the tables have turned!!.

All this has made me realize that I place way too much value on insignificant things, our lives are so short and we only get one shot at it. The time goes by way too fast. And once we use it up, we can’t ever get it back. Each and every second is valuable. Possessions steal our time and energy. They require unending maintenance to be cleaned, fixed, replaced, and in the end disposed of.  They steal our precious attention, our time, and energy and we don’t even notice it… not until it’s too late anyway.

Charles Darwin once said,

“A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life.”

He couldn't have been more right, our lives deserve better, we deserve better. Joy, happiness, and fulfillment are found in the invisible things in life, like, love, hope, peace, and friendship. And they are not on sale at your local retail store. People, who live their lives in pursuit of possessions, and I'm definitely guilty of that, are never content. They always desire newer, faster, or bigger because material possessions can never satisfy us fully.  We need to be reminded that our life is far too valuable to waste chasing them. And we should find more joy by choosing to pursue “better,” rather than “more.”

So be crazy. Be stupid. Be silly. Be weird. Be whatever you want to be. Because life is too short to be anything but happy.

Garreth