I don’t go out often but I made an exception last night and met up with some people from work at a restaurant called the Yellow House. We had been there a couple of times before and liked it because you can bring in our own wine and not be charged corkage, and because there was no sense of being rushed to finish your meal and leave. The only bad thing about the place is the décor. The walls are a dirty cream and brown with badly framed pictures of cocktails hung up too high to see properly. A half-hearted attempt was made to create a rustic African look by hanging wooden masks here and there and placing an odd assortment of animal sculptures in the on the window sills. I suppose it can be argued that the lack of interior design is what actually gives the place its unpretentiousness, which is its charm.

Yellow House

Anyhow, a band was playing there last night and they seemed a bit like their surroundings at first. The sound equipment had not been not properly adjusted before hand so when they started the vocals where practically inaudible. The guitar caused the speakers to whine and the violinist seemed to drown out the rest of the band. Amid this a faltering start though the two vocalists suddenly did a heartfelt a cappella which silenced the audience immediately and kept them quite for the entire duration. It was brilliant. After that the band somehow got their act together. The restaurant filled up, people started mixing with one another and dancing and a really good vibe was generated.

There are times like last night when I really enjoy being in South Africa. I’ve had the best times of my life in this country and have never been happier elsewhere. I just wish that things were different here and that South Africans could really exist as peacefully together as they did last night when conditions were just right. It would not matter so much then that government is like the restaurant itself, which is basically run very badly; for the sake of good company that can be forgiven. But I don’t see South Africans getting their act together any time soon. Who knows if they ever will?

天長地久

Nancy bought me a Moleskine to get my creative juices going... I am in an absolute creative rut unfortunately so I want to use it just to open up and explore different styles, subjects, ideas and stuff.

Show us your mother.

Coffee with my mother

Not long ago Nancy’s brother got married and had his first kid, a little girl. The baby was soon taken to her grandparents’ house where she will stay until she is old enough to go to school. Nancy’s parents, particularly her mother now have the job of raising the child while Nancy’s brother and his wife continue with their lives in much the same way as they did before they had a child. Every so often they might come down from Taipei in the northern part of Taiwan to Taichung in the middle of the island to see their little girl, but for the most part they don’t have much contact with her at all. For all intents and purposes the baby parents are Nancy’s parents.

Being raised by your grandparents is quite normal in Taiwan. Nancy also lived with her grandparents for the first few years of her life and she recalls how she used to be rather scared of her father when he came round for a visit. When Nancy was older and moved into the same house as her parents she naturally got to know and grew to love her parents more, but there is still a special kind of affection that is reserved for her grandparents, which is not hard to understand.

When Nancy I got married, Nancy’s parents expected a child to arrive within that first year. They often spoke about how much they looked forward to having a grandchild and what a cute little baby we were bound to have. When no such child arrived in the first year they were somewhat disappointed, and that disappointment grew more and more with every year that passed. When the topic came up I tried to reassure my parents-in-law that we would have a baby one day when the time was right. They would then ask when that time might be, and I would be pressed into corner. Maybe next year, I’d say, we’ll see how it goes. After a while, Nancy’s mother did not take find much comfort in that response either and I would talk in earnest with her about why we were delaying having a child. I told her that I needed to get into a career, be financially secure, have a fixed address, my own home and most importantly be emotionally and psychologically ready to be a father. No matter how much sense I made though, Nancy’s mom would always find a hole in my thinking. Nancy and I should have a child while we were young and strong, she said. Waiting until we were older could complicate the pregnancy and compromise the chances of having a healthy child. Besides, she would go on, it is not nice for a child to have old parents. If we had a child now, she would take care of it and we could get on with things until we were ready to look after it ourselves.

It seems that Nancy’s brother and his wife have taken up on that offer for themselves. In a way it must be a relief to have a baby and not have your life turned upside down. Unlike other new parents they don’t suffer from sleepless nights, nor do they have to change soiled nappies. They don’t have to endure the sound of a baby bawling. They don’t have any of the inconvenience that a baby imposes. By the time their daughter lives with them she will be completely ‘house trained’.

Despite the convenience of having a permanent baby sitter however, I would never want that kind of detachment from my child. If I had a child I would want to give her every bit of my love and be a part of her development from the very first day. I would not wish anyone to do that on my behalf.

Nancy’s parents certainly love their little grandchild to pieces. No doubt about it. She is growing up in a wonderfully caring, protective environment and in that sense she is lucky. But if she were my child I would feel very unhappy to see her grow up in a house where there is not much more mental stimulation than the television in the lounge and a generation gap in the household.

I still think that Nancy and I are right to put off having a child until we can afford to in every sense of the word. Thankfully this is not something that I’ll have to explain to Nancy’s parents now that they are thoroughly preoccupied with their grandchild. Nonetheless, the arrival of a new baby in the family has started tugging at Nancy’s maternal instincts and talk of a baby of our own seems to be it’s finding its way into many of out conversations lately.

Testing the water

After much deliberation Nancy and I have decided to quit our respective countries at the end of the year and move to England, more specifically to London. We’ll be jumping into the deep end there joining millions of others from every corner of the world and swimming for our lives. It won’t be easy, that’s for sure. In fact it will probably be torturous.

My sister took the plunge a couple of years ago and has only now managed to come up for air and catch her breath. Over a cup of tea in her quiet little flat in Putney it seems hard to imagine that her life was ever that difficult in London, but I don’t know the worst of it. Her home, her friends and her job were hard won she says and I’d best prepare myself for an equally tough time when I arrive. Most of the people I met there affirmed that nothing comes easy in London. They too have survived rough neighbourhoods, rougher neighbours and jobs that ate at their soul before gaining enough experience to move on to something better.

Ingrid and Pete

As a teacher I’ll be going into a rough neighbourhood no matter which part of London I find myself in. The thought of teaching British kids makes me more than a little nervous. Just yesterday I came across a Time magazine article about the youngsters in Britain being naughty brats in preschool and absolute hooligans by high school. They are literally dangerous it said, which makes me wonder what am I getting myself into. I’ll be roasted on my first day.

I am also concerned about Nancy making it in London. I don’t know how long it will take her to get a proper job or how she will cope working alongside British people if or when she does. It will certainly be quite a while before her English has improved to the point that she can keep up with the talk around her and that alone is a hurdle to cross.

Nancy and Ingrid

Then there is the question of money. London is renowned for the being an outrageously expensive city, so even with a decent job it is difficult to save much. The average Londoner apparently spends about a third of their salary just on rent. Another significant proportion goes towards transport and what is left goes into keeping oneself clothed, fed and entertained. British Pounds may well exchange favourably with other currencies, but that doesn’t mean much when there are hardly any pounds left at the end of each month.

Nancy's first experience of snow

I guess the people cramming themselves into the city do it largely for the sake of living there. It is a common job perk no matter what line of work one is in. From art to theatre to sport to food to shopping, London offers the very best of everything. The careful preservation of historical architecture and extensive green spaces make it a beautiful, liveable city too and the generally peaceful coexistence of such a diverse population makes it a place anyone can call home. For me these are some of the main reasons I wish to move there and why Nancy is willing to give it a go.

Trafalgar Square

So, in the next few months I will be busy getting all the paperwork I need sorted out and packing up my life in South Africa. Nancy will be doing much the same thing in Taiwan. The hardest part for both of us will be leaving the comfort of familiarity for complete uncertainty, but at least we will be together again. Over the past 6 months we have been living at opposite ends of the world and that has probably been a greater struggle than anything London could throw at us. Simply having each other at the end of the day will see us through the difficult times just like it has until now and the good times will be that much sweeter too.

For the last couple of months I have been taking a photo a day to create a kind of visual record of this year. Sometimes something interesting presents itself, like the day I met Rachel who owns a fantastic Amazon parrot that is 25 years old and the day I discovered a massive spider dangling above my head in the shower. Other days the most interesting thing I can find is the sharpener on my desk or the water pipe running along a wall. Then there are days like today that I can’t think of anything to photograph at all. The problem is that I don’t feel like making the effort to take out my camera, let alone take a picture. I couldn’t be bothered anymore.

This sudden apathy towards my photography project worries me because it has similarly obliterated other important things to me for no reason at all. Last year for instance I became very conscientious about my diet and made a point of staying fit and healthy. But just when I was back in shape and feeling great I lost interest in working out and reverted back to my old eating habits. Now I carry about half the weight that I had lost and I struggle to get back into that winning eating and exercise plan that I inexplicably abandoned.

By far the most frustrating case of apathy I have has to do with making art. In my heart I still carry the absolute conviction that I could make it as an artist if only I would get off my arse do it, but I don’t. It is as if I am a barrel of oil able to go up in flames, I just lack the spark that would set me off - and what makes it even worse is that I have a box of matches right in my hands. Instead my creativity lies welled up in me like a dark secret. It should be the thing that defines me, distinguishes me, lights me up and brings me happiness but it is not. If anything it makes me feel ashamed of myself for not caring enough to act on it.

So I have decided to take a photo for today even though I don't feel like it because I have to stop this feeling of apathy where it creeps in. For the same reason I have also decided to resume my exercise programme (in earnest) and to follow the simple rule of eating only healthy food. I figure that a small victory on those fronts will give me the courage I need to take on the real challenge of being an artist again.

What's the best thing about today?

Meeting up with old friends

I met up with my oldest friend's family who happened to be living in the Eastern Cape not far from where I live in Grahamstown. After losing touch with them some years ago I did a search on Facebook and I struck gold with their daughter Natasha who had just signed up at the insistence of her colleagues. From there is was a simple matter of exchanging contact details and arranging to meet up.

While I was there my friend's parents told me all about the past three years they spent in Mali, north Africa and I told them about my time in Taiwan. We had many tales to share.

Stephanie arriving in Mali where she would live for the next 3 years

Alain is a Frenchman by birth but a man of Africa by nature