the blog at planet roz

So last Friday night I went out with Mireille, Alisha, Rutendo and Angelique for tapas at Fork on Long Street, and then to see a play called “Iago’s Last Dance” which was about relationships and HIV/AIDS.

The play was really very good and so was the dinner and the company. I felt like we were in an episode of Sex and the City, except we were 5 single (alright 4 and 1 married) gals out on the town, livin’ and laughin’ it up as we talked about men, Cape Town, G4S (which stands for G4 Security, although Rutendo thought it stood for “Good for Sex"), and a certain man who is having a certain effect on all the ladies it seems.

A friend’s nearly 10 year old daughter came to stay with me this weekend, ‘cos she didn’t want me to “feel lonely”. Her mum’s away for work and she left her three sisters and came to hang out with me. We ate a lot of junk food, watched Hannah Montana and generally had fun. I had thought she was very quiet and shy, but she was quite talkative and told me she’s “mysterious”. Thanks for keeping me company “Nina Ballerina”.

This iteration of my blog is basically dead as it doesn’t allow visitors to post comments, which kind of defeats the purpose really. Thanks so much Expression Engine Core.  Why oh why didn’t I just stick to the old free PMachine. Anyway, feel free to go through these wonderful archives of terrific times on planet roz.

For the new “comment all you like as long as you’re not dodgy Eastern European and those blue pill sites” blog, go to www.planet-roz.com/blog/ and enjoy. You can also find out more about me by checking out the links on the left.

Got back last Thursday from a way too short trip for work to Accra, Ghana. Attended a training workshop on HIV/AIDS in Integrated Peacekeeping Support Operations. Learned a whole heck of a lot from lots of military people who’ve been involved in peacekeeping operations. Met some great people and had lots of laughs.

I am supposed to write an “impression piece” for the website at work, which will be an interesting and exciting task.

Life would be so much easier wouldn’t it if sometimes we could just have what we want (or think we want)?

Get this. An ex boyfriend sends me this e-mail:

“Hi,
I have just joined the Jhoos Dating network. I wish to invite you to Jhoos as well.

Jhoos is a Dating Network with chat facilities that would let you search for members across the globe and chat with them instantly.

See you at Jhoos”

You dumped me, so why do you want me to join your flipping dating network?

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.

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.

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.

So yesterday Mireille and I went to the gym after a two week absence. We later found out that our regular instructor apparently injured herself in another class, so we had this beefcake called Killian doing the first 15 minutes.

Then we had this dreadlocked super energetic maniac on steroids or something. The point of having music while you work out is to motivate you and make it fun I would have thought. She was just jumping up and down totally oblivious to the music, with a huge smile on her face, shouting “faster, faster”. It was surreal. Two people walked out after about 5 minutes of her workout, then another 3 walked out later.

Usually I don’t want the class to end but I was watching the clock and willing the hands to move. What a riot!

Yes, I’m still on about the “coloured” issue, but it’s an every day issue here. It’s not about to go away. Last week after church, this coloured older gentleman starts talking to me. He’s spoken to me before, but obviously forgot so he asked my name and where I’m from again. He said I sound like I’m from England, so I said I grew up there.

He then asked me how I felt growing up there, whether I felt I fit in or whether I felt uncomfortable. I said I was in Guildford, Surrey, where at the time there were very few black people, so there were quite a few racist comments when I went into town. (You know skinheads doing the Nazi salute as they pass you, people coming up to you and telling you to go “back to the jungle where you came from"). I told him Guildford has probably changed a lot from when I was there.

The reason he asked was because he feels uncomfortable and out of place when he goes to a part of Cape Town where the people are predominantly black. (He didn’t say which part).  He then went on to talk about a black family that moved in “recently” to his area, and people asked him how he could interact with them basically. When was recently? 1994!!!!! Unbelievable.

Finally got to see P.S. I Love You with Gerard Butler and Hilary Swank. Of course I knew it wasn’t going to be a great film or anything, but it’s with Gerry so that was all that counted. Went with friends Ray and Mireille. Verdict. He’s (still) hot! Review to follow. The best thing I’ve seen him in remains Dear Frankie.

Watched the Oscars yesterday evening, a day late here in SA, but still got to watch them. As is often the case with me, I hadn’t seen a lot of the nominations. In fact, I think the only one I saw before the awards was Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, so I’ve got a few films to look forward to seeing.

As we all know, the writers recently called off their five month or however long it was strike, and as far as I’m concerned, they’re well rusty. I didn’t really find any of Jon Stewart’s jokes funny.

Been involved in quite a few funny incidents lately.

Last Sunday, Egypt beat Cameroon 1-0 at the final of the 2008 Africa Cup of Nations in Ghana. Watched it with four other adults and a four year old boy, who’s a Chelsea fan, and decided he wanted Egypt to win right from the start. Anyway, at the award ceremony, the refs and players were given frayed ribbons which held their medals, and it was really an embarrassment. In the end, those presenting them got handed the medals with the ribbons tied at the back to present to players, which was really naff. One of the adults joked that the ribbons were probably bought in Woolworth’s in the UK, rather than the SA one.

Went to a hairdressers where the stylist tried to fleece me to the tune of R30 (about $3). He’s from Congo and his boss is Cameroonian. Anyway he didn’t know I speak French, so the whole time he’s doing my hair, he’s telling his boss that when I go to pay her, she should add on R30. His reason? When I first walked in, apparently I didn’t look like I had money, but as time went by, he figured out I had money, and so basically they shouldn’t pass up the opportunity. In between telling her to get the extra R30 off me, he’s telling me how some hairdressers like to stiff their clients by selling them expensive products, when I told him another hairdresser I went to told me my hair was damaged and sold me an expensive conditioner.

I played dumb when it came time to pay and just told the boss lady (who to her credit felt uncomfortable asking me for the extra money, so didn’t) I was paying the amount I’d been told to pay in the beginning. Of course if it had been a movie, I would have said “by the way I understood every word you said”, but it wasn’t so I didn’t. People I told the story to said I should have said that, but I’ll save it for another time. I think I wanted to hear what other gems they could come up with when next I visit. He’s a great hairdresser so I’ll be going back as haven’t found too many other great hairdressers here.

Yesterday, went to Kirstenbosch National Botanical Gardens with a friend where we walked around the beautiful grounds and had a spectacular view of some mountain—not Table, though. Then we sat on the lawn (kind of like at Wolftrap in Virginia) and listened to this Cape Town ska band called The Rudimentals. The day was kind of spoiled by a dumb argument we had in the car park while waiting for a taxi, but we tend to have quite a few dumb arguments. As I get older, I realise that you just have to let some things go.

Too, too cute is this YouTube video of Charlie biting his little brother. I’m very late since it’s been on YouTube since May 2007, but got the link off Dooce, a site I love.