the blog at planet-roz

Watched the 46664 concert in Hyde Park, London this past Friday, in celebration of Nelson Mandela’s 90th birthday coming up in July. Watched it on the telly, that is, not in Hyde Park. Wow, it’s no joke being 90. Knew 46664 was Madiba’s prisoner number, but always wondered why people said “four double six six four” as opposed to “four triple six four”, which for me seems easier. Turns out he was prisoner no. 466 of 1964.

It was interesting watching Simple Minds perform Don’t You Forget About Me. I used to love them in the 80’s and thought Jim Kerr was just so cool. Not as cool as Paul Weller of course. “I will never forget you trying to photograph Paul Weller when he was on Top of the Pops – you were so in love!!!!!” (Direct quote from an old school friend, Nicky Potty.)

Anyway back to Simple Minds. I thought it was embarrassing. I know songs don’t always sound the same live, but I really felt like turning the volume down and sticking on the iPod and playing the song from there. Jim still had his signature moves, but now it was just sad, for want of a better word. It was like everything was on extreme slow motion. Maybe I’m being a bit harsh, and I do know it was for a good cause, but I think I prefer to keep alive the image I had of Simple Minds back in the 80s.

As for Amy Winehouse. She’s another story altogether. Bought her Back to Black CD ‘cos heard Rehab months after everyone else and loved it. This was the first time I’d seen her singing and I couldn’t believe it. I was speechless. She was like a train wreck about to happen. I mean my mouth was wide open throughout her performance, waiting for something to go wrong. I noticed at the end that one of the SA kids singing on stage just kept staring at her in amazement. She had on this mini dress and kept on lifting up her dress and sort of scratching her legs like there was something wrong. Strange.

So Euro 2008 is over, with Spain beating Germany 1-0 last night. I was rooting for Spain, who were the supposed underdogs, but at the same time was also rooting for Germany. Really either team winning would have been good, but Spain deserved to win as they played much better than the Germans. It was a sweet victory for them since they hadn’t won the European championships since 1964.

The accent question returns. So in the ten years I spent in the US, I would say I kept my British accent, although some in London (Bukie and her son Kanyin) reckoned I had an American accent, but what do they know eh? I was quite adamant about not wanting to acquire an American accent as I saw nothing wrong with the one I had. I remember an Ethiopian, who worked in the reception of the apartment block where I lived in Chevy Chase, telling me a year after I got to America that I should lose the accent, ‘cos I’m in America now. How ridiculous. Lose the accent yeah, and make up a phoney one like yours that’s definitely not American. I don’t think so!

So fast forward to 2008 in Cape Town, and here I am meeting new people who reckon I sound American, and one of those people is American! Granted, he’s been here 30 years, but he still asked me what part of the States I’m from. Another American from Oregon said she could hear bits of an American accent, and I would say I agree with her. My accent’s all over the place now, but most of the time I definitely hear bits of an American accent.

On another note, the Azzurri are out of Euro 2008, and darling Cannavaro was out the whole time ‘cos of an injury. I didn’t think the Italians played well enough to win it, and the only other matches I watched involved the Dutch, who were on a roll, but they’re out now, so for the sake of nostalgia I’m going to support the Russians, because they hosted me for a year in their country and taught me their beautiful language.

I haven’t written in a while. A lot has been happening here in SA. May 11 2008 saw the start of xenophobic violence in Alexandra township in Gauteng Province. The violence spread to most of the provinces in SA, eventually reaching Cape Town in the Western Province around 22 May.

When we first began to hear of mobs looting and destroying people’s homes in Gauteng, it put everything into perspective. Whatever little gripe I may have had about anything became totally inconsequential. Usually when someone says their problems pale in comparison to someone say who has cancer, I’m the first to say that may be true, but everyone’s problems, no matter how small, are huge to them. And then we heard of people being burned alive or attacked with hammers and machetes.

Before I first came to South Africa I was warned about the high incidences of rape and you read all the time about the horrific rape of women, children and babies. So in my first few weeks here I looked around and thought of every man as a potential rapist. When the attacks hit Cape Town I felt uneasy and began to think of every “African” South African man as someone who was hiding a machete, ready to strike at any moment. Ironic really that black South Africans are called “Africans” by other South Africans, and yet “Africans” rose up to kill other “Africans”.

This is the first country I’ve lived in where I’m very conscious of being a “foreigner”, even before all of this started. While the magnitude of the attacks was surprising, black foreigners coming here are warned that “South Africans are xenophobic”, so that it happened at all was perhaps somewhat to be expected.