Grateful

We're in daylight savings now, so I get to see the sun rise at a stop. Usually I'm in transit. Still fairly dark when I leave home though. It was only after I saved the photo to my pc that I noticed the rainbow... faint, but it's there. I have no idea if it was really there or if it was caused somehow by my camera. I like it though.

So much to be grateful for today. Tat had a much better paper-chase experience today - more thanks go out to strangers reaching out. On that note, if you ever want to show random kindness towards a stranger, just know that it is never wasted. It can make all the difference!

My bus disappeared into the early morning semi-dark, so I settled into a stroll thinking I had at least 20 minutes to wait for the next one. Just then, the next bus came. Either the previous one was very late or this one was very early. I flagged the bus from a good distance away. The driver saw me, pulled up at the opposite corner and waited!! What and angel. And... the bus had scads of seating!

Cute... just passed a bridal dressmaking shop - a tortoiseshell and white cat is in the window watching the passing traffic.

There was a girl reading a book (translated) on the metro - Christiane F. - a book about a 14 year old girl who was caught up in a life of drugs and prostitution (true story). It came as recommended reading and viewing - there's a movie too - when I was a teen. I can't think of a more depressing book to start a day with.

The Christiane book girl has nodded off and is falling over onto the woman next to her. On the other side sits a girl trying very hard to look like she isn't crying. I hope her day gets better.

~                          ~                           ~

At the bank building, outside, there is a beautiful old tree with branches that go on forever. Under it was a group of youngsters, their backpacks up against the wall. They were having a really good time. A cloud of smoke hovered over them as they puffed away on the bong. One played guitar off to the side. A few were passing around bottles of booze. The security looked uncomfortable, but did nothing about it. My student and I discussed conspiracy theories and voting (not too much difference between the two).

Afterwards, I went to the shopping centre near my next student. It's already done up for Christmas!! And the Christmas shops are open! I wandered around there for about half an hour only to be called... my student cancelled... again. She thought changing her times back to her old times would help with cancellations. Uh huh. It helped, all right. So I mooched off home. My evening student has changed his time for Saturday morning. There go the weekends.

C'est la vie... and another week ends...

 

Technorati Tags: sunrise,youth,life,transport,people

Wednesday Waffle

The week sort of spun out of control again. I had a whole heap of random publishable (and some very unpublishable) thoughts to write down.

I'm having a week of far too many cancellations again. Now I remember... that was another reason I was unreasonably excited about working for an establishment. Cancellations aren't all bad though. Sometimes they allow me to tour the city in bumpy buses giving me time to muse about life in general and why I'm hungry an hour after lunch.

Bureaucracy sucks. I am fast learning that there isn't a country in the world that doesn't take delight in crumpling you up in a ball of paperwork and tossing you around. Much like this...



I was looking for this photo when I saw that Multiply had my last year's NaNo photo as having been uploaded in 2007. Craziness!

I took a chance and asked a random person on FB a couple of weeks ago if they knew anyone who would have a photo or could take a photo of the monument in Ficksburg. This guy is my great (x a few) grandfather, the one the town is named after. Being a small town in the Free State, there is very little information out here beyond the annual cherry festival and all things cherry. The family's farm there was... yep, you guessed it... a cherry farm. It's a beautiful part of the world that appears to be dominated by the prevalence of cherries and winter frost.

Lo and behold, one lady came through for me! The monument is in front of Ficksburg's really quaint city hall. What's more is that she said she'd go back and photograph the text detail for me. I think I love her. Now she's found an elderly gentleman who has the history of the town and its people on computer and may even be eager to share the information. I'm in genie heaven!


With grateful thanks to Susan K!
I may yet be able to map this family's winding path into the past.

Oh, Jurgis just came back from the village... mail day! Weeee!!! From the one place where us poor Seffies are welcome. And here I had just been watching the video of Tat dancing with her very sweet Leprechaun and no, she won't thank me for uploading the video, so it will stay safely tucked away on my pc : )

Technorati Tags: bureaucracy,ficksburg,paperwork,postcard

LOL

Yep... LOL "Laugh out Loud"

Just in case you needed more convincing... this is about laughing - out loud...


Bad photo, but who cares?
When the World Cup was on the go, I read something about a journalist who landed in South Africa. He said what struck him the most was the laughter he heard at the airport, obviously something he wasn't accustomed to. South Africans are a peculiar lot, but one thing we do is laugh and usually out loud. I think it's because we're usually to be found out of doors, so conversations get spoken loudly across braais (bbq's) and laughter is something practised at the same volume.

Yes, we are loud, I think, but most of all, we know how to laugh, especially at ourselves and when something is funny, we aren't shy to let the world know. Yes, yes, our laughter may be quite loud and rumbustious, but that's us.

Laughter is contagious. I saw a little booklet the other day and one of the notes in it said: "A felicidade é contagiosa: cerque-se de rostos felizes." Happiness is contagious: surround yourself with happy faces.

Sometimes, I forget to laugh. I forget that laughter feels good. A good belly laugh heals so much ill. It occurred to me that we don't hear much laughter here at all, loud or soft. They smile, they chuckle, and laugh softly. It isn't that laugh that forces itself up from deep in your belly, stretching your mouth and face, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the tears roll. Ah... to laugh is good!


What makes you belly laugh?

 

Technorati Tags: laughing,lol,happiness

Ups and downs of life

So… it’s Monday and the week definitely has to pick up from here. Poor Monday gets incredibly bad rap as it is.

I woke up in the early hours to a thud. Jurgis had gotten up, decided to check something on my pc and knocked my stand with the webcam over. I still don’t know if it’s damaged. I’ll check it out later once the day starts improving.

The sound of gentle rain woke me up later. That was worth a smile. I lay listening to it for a while, then was slapped by the sound of our UPS’ beeping. Gah… power failure! It lasted for 2 hours and now our internet won’t start up. Thing is, if our internet doesn’t work, we’re without a phone too, as our phone is through our net service. We could call them, but they make you hold for ages and we’d have to call with cell phones. On our regular phone, last time we called, it turned out to be less than cheap.

I texted my student for this morning to confirm her class - her times were due to change. Just got the reply. She had told the agent I get work through that she was stopping classes as something had changed with her work. Thanks for letting me know, folks! No one told me. It was thanks to a gut feeling that I texted her. I was dressed and ready to go to meet her.

Yes, she did say it was due to changes in her work, but it’s so, so hard not to take it personally. I’ll never know if it was me. One thing about Brazilians is that they’re polite to a fault (ok, polite in some ways, such as not being able to say ‘no’). Any excuse will do as long as they don’t have to tell you to your face that something is wrong. My head is telling me that it’s bull. My heart is asking far too many questions. Ah well.

As I said, the morning can only get better, right? On the bright side, losing a student means my schedule is clearing for better students or for the course to enter that school… the one with all the super benefits. Yeah! That’s it. Now to convince my self-esteem that all is well.

Technorati Tags: work,power failure,internet,monday

Accidental flying

I take three buses to my first student. Every now and again, the bus drivers run an intensive testing period to see if the passengers are awake.

In short... I hurt... all over.

I was tucked into the window seat just in front of the conductor. The driver had filled up with kangaroo juice and was testing his brakes and steering system to the limit. In peak hour traffic, that takes some doing.

I reached into my bag to get my bus card out just as the driver grew wings to take the last S-bend before my stop.

Now I'm not gravity-challenged and I'm definitely no feather-weight. It takes a lot to part me with gravity. When I sit, I'm firmly planted. Not this time. As he took the corner, I sailed across, out of my seat, across the neighbouring seat, and into the aisle, landing in a heap on the opposite side of the the bus against the other seats. Gravity remembered me... with a vengeance! As I said, I hurt *hobbles off into the sunset... make that 'sunrise'*

This picture makes me very, very grateful that I wear pants to work!

Great way to start the day!

I tend to stop and talk to the animals along my way and passing dog walkers are easy game. One dog came up to sniff and I patted him and chatted to him. His owner launched into an account of how she's going to complain about the bank she was just at because they wouldn't let her dog (slightly bigger than a fox terrier) in even though he's her 'bengala'. Now 'bengala' is a walking stick. How on earth can a dog on a soft leather leash be a walking stick for someone, who, incidentally, was walking just fine. I suggested, hesitantly, that perhaps if she carried a document saying he is exempt from the usual rules banning animals in banks, she may avoid problems in future. Apparently she has a document and they refused to acknowledge it. Now I'm an ardent defender of the sick, the lame and the helpless, but I couldn't help thinking this time that I wasn't very surprised that they raised an eyebrow at her claim.

Eh.... what a week it's been. I'm glad tomorrow is Friday. I'll go in, teach, then pay the rent and get my butt home to unwind.

 

Technorati Tags: bengala,bus,accident

Photos in my mind

*A note to those who're new to my blog...
My blogs are written on paper while I'm out teaching,
in the 'dead' time between students or on the bus...
just in case you find it doesn't make much sense*

Oh look! Today's Friday the 13th! So far, it's promising to be peachy in spite of my horrorscope promising doom 'n gloom. I think I'll actually take a lottery ticket today. In fairness, the lottery place should be empty barring a few other souls as odd as me.

It's Friday! : )

An old black man got on the bus - his most notable features were his work-worn hands. I looked up at his creased brown skin and my thoughts went back to old Joe. Joe was part of the landscape of my childhood, a short man, his face a map of ebony wrinkles. I'm not sure what his actual job was, but I remember him mostly on his knees alongside my gran as they lovingly tended pansies, dahlias and roses.

He was a quiet man. The only time I remember him actually saying something was when, during some controversial political upheaval in the country ~ "Ek's 'n kaffir. Ek sal altyd 'n kaffir wees." (Translates to "I'm a kaffir and will always be a kaffir") He wasn't being humble or downtrodden when he said that. He said it with an odd pride. I actually think that he had found the equality everyone else was crying for kneeling in the dirt next to a white woman, tending the flower beds they both loved. I was taught to respect him and who could do otherwise? I think he was old before time began.

Another short man from my past comes to mind, Oom de Vos. I can picture him clearly. Actually, I can smell him clearly too. He carried a musty old-man smell about him that made me imagine him carrying mothballs in the pockets of his equally old black suit that he probably dug out especially for these visits. I wish I knew more about him though. He'd known my gran for many, many years. Apparently, he had been a manager on the family farm. He always spoke to my gran with warm deference. I suspect that he could have filled in a lot of the gaps I have in the family history. I'd look his family up, but, sadly, De Vos is a fairly common name in South Africa and I know absolutely nothing else about him. For the lack of photos, I wish I were an artist. I'd paint a picture. The memories are crystal clear.

A young girl, a student, got onto the bus and stood next to my seat. I offered to hold her bags, but she put them on the floor at her feet. She did, however, allow me to hold her book, a thick tome on Clinical Anatomy. Have you ever held a book and wished you could just absorb all the information in it through the covers... osmosis-style? I did. I wonder if she'd have thought me odd or presumptuous if I'd started flipping through the book.

 

Technorati Tags: joe,13,devos,memories

Raw umber

Not my photo - photographer unknown


One of my most treasured childhood possessions was my box of Crayola crayons. As I sit here, I can feel the textured paper clinging to the silky-smooth wax. My box of crayons was always perfectly arranged in colour order. I loved the colours, but, I think, more than the colours, I loved their names. Aquamarine, Indian Red, Prussian Blue, Forest Green, Raw Sienna, Brick Red... names that fire the imagination. So many of my colour references today are from Crayola. Raw umber and burnt orange were my favourites. I loved the way the names rolled off my tongue.

Now I'm no shopaholic. In fact, I don't like shopping, especially when it's for myself. Where I'm sitting, though, is a shop boasting a cardigan in a perfectly exquisite burnt orange. Good thing that it's about four sizes too small for me.

I finally managed to finish my Worcestershire sauce book today. That is, after the smell dissipated enough for me to be able to carry it with me onto public buses and into classes.

If you could have one super power, what would you want? I would love the ability to heal or comfort with just a touch - where words are superfluous and reasoning an unnecessary extra. On the other hand... the ability to teleport would have been very useful today *sigh*

 

Technorati Tags: crayons,crayola,colour,book,super power