Permits 4 Africa

It was once again time to renew my work permit, so 10 of us trudged off to the Department of "Sit on your butt and wait Forever" and started serving our sentence.

I found myself bored after approximately 15 minutes and after another hour and a half I was photographing everything in my line of fire. I then started a game of chicken which basically involves sitting in a non-aircon room with 20 heavy breathing, hot irritated people and launching methane bombs, some stealth and others that murmered like far off thunder. I have noticed that if you pretend to be playing on your phone, keep a neutral expression and don't look up, the members of a now fully operational gas chamber have very little chance of finding the culprit.

Butt after an hour of "Spot the Bomber" I was in need of a new challenge and we were en route to the Police Station, a km walk in 32'C weather, I made friends with a lady and her friend who opened her umbrella to shield herself from the sun, I simply ducked my head under the umbrella and began chatting to her as she was a newly found relative, she was shy, but her friend found it amusing and after a brief chat we parted ways.

Next we met a Chinese welder who had just returned from Moscow.
From his broken English we managed to derive the following information;

• Russia was very cold
• The prostitutes were very expensive 
• Vodka was an essential partner in fighting off the cold
• The police were very militant and demanded to see your papers all the time.
• He had been locked up more than one
• Fucki Fucki was possible if you were not caught and bribed by the police and a lady was having a slow night

He spoke with a twinkle in his slits and a smile on his lips, he also laughed at all of us as we tried to communicate with him, a 41 year old man who still looked 30.

I was then afforded the pleasure of sharing my bench with an Indian lady, I enquired whether she sat next to me because I was handsome and irresistible to women, she giggled and blushed and looked away. My colleagues shook their heads as if they felt sorry for this poor woman.

I asked if I could have my photo taken with her and she politely declined, even when I tried to convince her that I was in fact an exotic dancer by trade and  "Glitter" was my stage name. She  would still not succumb to my request for a photograph. She worked with her husband for a company that manufactured all the Student Prince school shoes that were exported to South Africa, had 2 children a son 13 and a daughter 9, she declined my offer to hold my hand while we spoke.

As I was called into the Department of "Smile and Shut Up" I was sure she was checking out my swaying bottom, but I would not put money on it.

Photo taken, permit issued and just when I felt that I had survived this 6 hour lapse in reality, we had to climb into a local taxi for a short trip, the creaking suspension, lack of windows that opened and grinding of metal on metal where brake pads should be reminded me of what the majority of commuters had to endure on a daily basis.

Africa is indeed a continent filled with colourful characters, friendly individuals and an adventure if you wish to step out of your safety net.

Be brave and live.

Nite All

African Trimmings

I went for a haircut, at a local hairdresser and I was told a beautiful lady would be cutting my hair. As I was seated and prepped, an African lady larger than me with enough padding around her bottom to stuff a full lounge suite greeted me.
When she asked scissors or "that hair shearing thing what's name I just forgot" I should have smelt a rat, I said scissors of course, being adventurous
Then she brought scissors and one of those big combs the blacks with 
Afros keep in their hair
So I figured, this is a well setup hairdresser that charges R25 for a haircut so it should be ok? All true.

Right?

Hell no

She used the scissors and comb and proceeded to remove a huge chunk out of the right side of my head
Some sense returned as Danny my work colleague and friend abruptly turned and walked out laughing.
I put my specs on and did I leave? No
I told her that maybe the shearer would be better. She smiled and almost skipped off to get it
Danny came in smiling like a bloody naughty kid, it looked like he had been crying his eyes were so wet
She came back and asked if she should shave the top the same length as the back and Danny left the shop again
No I stayed, not sure if it was shock or stupidity at this stage
She used a no 4 all over and then back came the scissors
She did the round the ear bits and I prayed and apologised for all I had and would ever do.
Returneth the crying Danny

He asked my beautifully gifted hair stylist if she would mind if he could help AND SHE YES!!!
What the hell

He did a No3 round the back and sides, then asked for a No 2. He did the edges and sides AGAIN with it and I was not saying a word. I asked how it looked and I could have sworn I heard him snort

It was over.

I got a wash AFTER the haircut AND paid full price for it
As we walked out he laughed like a bloody idiot, the reason he had to use the No 2 was that on the other side to the big comb cut disaster, she had cut a stripe while trimming round my ear. The No 3 didn't remove it

Sigh. It was a real experience for the costly sum of R25.
The moral of the story once again is that Africa isnt for sissies.

Nite All.

Frosty Bits

I am cold, colder than the heart of a divorce lawyer or a cat who is ignoring you.

There was snow and I am not in favour of it. It is just a pre-requisite for mud and has the potential of ice on steps. Now this led to a knock on my door at 21h00 on Saturday night as one of my work colleagues fell up a flight of stairs. After pointing and an initial spurt of acceptable mocking, I did what any neighbour would do, I gave him 4 Disney character plasters. The look of utter disgust was priceless and I had to stop myself from giving him a peck on the cheek.

Life on site has entered a routine and the advent of a week of sub zero temperatures and snow has certainly cast a little disconcertment amongst us all, almost like a huge rump steak in the company of vegetarians. Please don't get me wrong, I once knew of a girl who heard a tale of her distant aunt's twin daughter-in-laws roommate who bumped into a vegetarian at an anti-prenuptial rally in some distant American State.

I bought a pair of longjohns this weekend and am now in need of thermal underwear before it reaches the stage where a vasectomy is no longer required and I will be left with nothing to scratch when I awaken in the morning. Pre-waking needs for bladder visits to the loo have now become instances of dash and slash with the acute possibility of a splash.

So into the cold frosty yonder I venture until we next cross paths

Nite All

Rock and Roll Parenting

Just under a hundred miles an hour on a potholed filled road with rock and roll blaring and singing at the top of my voice.

My head is clear and I had coffee with some beautiful amazing friends this weekend. This is the mood food that your soul requires, friends, hugs, laughter and a recharging of your positive mojo.

This overflowed into my joyful singing race to the border, I was Thelma and Louise served with a side order of Chuck Norris and just a pinch of Wolverine. Do I hear a hoohah? Lol

30 days till I see my girls again so time to buckle down and work. Eat the stew, admire the scenery and stay sane. It is Nicole's birthday next week and Simon's next month. I won't be there for either, its a choice my girls and I made together when I accepted this job. I know that by seeing them 3 days a month I am missing out on a large part of their life. If I had to philosophise it all I would be as miserable as a chubby boy who can't touch his toes. Instead I smile and when I don't I make contact with my support crew back home.

Parenting means making tough choices, we all do and we live by them.
Bravo to every parent out there, rock and roll parenting means doing your best and smiling when you feel like crying. I admire single parents and the tenacity and inner strength they show at all times. Yes we cry behind the scenes and lie awake worrying about making it to the end of the month, we struggle to give our kids the best and beg borrow and steal to see the look of absolute joy when they have it. We are survivors and silent worriers, but dedicated and hard working and often survive by accepting love and support from our friends.

Sometimes I have to push life to the limit, it is after all rock and roll to me.

Nite all

African Month

Life in Lesotho can best be described as trading in the Johannesburg highways with its aggressive drivers and slowing it all down to slow motion, similar to the now infamous Pamela Anderson Baywatch jogging scene in her airbrushed bikini.

It is relaxed. People chat to you and because my skin is of a paler complexion, I am no longer referred to as "Chinese"but am now American". I am only partially convinced that this nothing to do with me being twice the size of the average Chinese, however bulk is seen as an asset here.
We have started our vegetable garden and our gardener speaks next to no English, hence we both smile a lot at each other and I have no idea what he has planted where. My sign language is a combination of hand signals with some body movement, basically I look like a chubby version of Michael Jackson doing a moonwalk without moving my feet.

Work is currently 90% admin and 10% site work, I sometimes feel like a school teacher who never gets the apple. Our accommodation is compact but clean and serviced daily, food is good although I never though I would say, but the amount of red meat we consume is enough to make the mildest of vegetarians refer to us as cannibalistic murderers. This I am led to believe is not a compliment.

When we feel the walls of our rooms getting a little close and the sudden urge to hug our male colleagues, we head off to Maseru and grab a meal and a movie. The owner of the local Spur never leaves us alone and all the waiters apologise if someone is sitting in our table, and what do we order? CHICKEN!

So in short, it is a beautiful country with the most brilliant stars at night, friendly people and a pace of life which explains why the donkey is the transport vehicle of choice.


Nite All

Valentines Day Tale

And so it came to be that Cupid once more forgot his Garmin at home. The little blighter must have been too busy watching Jerry Springer and ran out of time again.

I assumed that with it being a leap year, the ladies would have leapt at the opportunity to invite a gentleman to dinner, serenade him and if all the love gods were aligned with the latest toys from Apple, blessed him with a heavenly kiss. But alas, no such fortune befell me. My hope is that many of my friends, both of the male and female variety were commercially and romantically engaged.

The origin of Cupid is indeed an interesting one. He was the son of an archer and his mother was a fallen angel of the other side of the clouds. He was small for his age and kept his youthful looks with the aide of continual waxing of all unwanted body hair and bleached hair. Cupid did not partake of the botox chemical as his chubby little body and face repelled wrinkles as a garlic breathe repells unwanted relatives. He was a shiny, smooth little midget and his wings were marvel to science, how he managed to stay aloft has been attributed to one factor only, his love for baked beans and boiled eggs. This might explain the origin of the phrases "love is in the air" and "Cupids flaming arrows".

So in conclusion, a poem fresh from the cuff

There was a young lad from the city

Whose face was far from pretty

He met a shy lass

Of considerable mass

And they just broke bed number thirty

Happy Valentines Day one and all

Santa's Special Delivery

So I had a dream, I was showering in a mysterious house I didn't know and there was a party downstairs.
Now I can imagine your first thought might be, 'Why are the heck are you showering if there's a party downstairs'? Well that part of the dream eludes me!
I can imagine I was somehow not in a state suitable for mingling. Perhaps I had been refereeing a mud wresting contest OR cooking and preparing grilled king prawns OR assisting in the delicate task of coating chocolate bunnies for Hugh Heffners Christmas Bash!

So I was showering and stepped out to dry myself when horror upon horror, I heard the ever nearing steps of stilettos approaching the bathroom. I did what any man in my position would do, I wrapped a towel around my head and closed my eyes. (in hindsight I should perhaps have covered my body as well)

So I was hiding with my back to the door when I heard it open.
Note to Self! When hiding in plain sight for all to see, hiding your head in a towel does not make you invisible!!!!

The door opened, I waited for the scream, but instead I heard the door close and those high heels approach me. I tensed and felt arms gently draw me near and the most beautiful husky voice whisper in my ear, "Look what Santa delivered for me"

Merry Christmas to each of you
For reading my tales the whole year through
Happy or sad or a little off key
They tell the adventures of little old me
May your day be filled with Christmas Cheer
I will toast you all with an ice cold beer

Nite all

Decaf Dreams

I am a slow learner not because of rumours of being dropped on my head as a child or car accidents in my slightly misspent youth, but rather because of a stubbornness that allows me to act like a twenty year old and expect my body to perform as such.

I had a delightful evening of sushi with a new friend and we decided to conclude the evening with a "coffee" and rest in heavy leather chairs. She ordered a decaf latte and ordered a cuppachino. No you heard correctly, I didn't fail to mention decaffinated, I ordered the twenty year old version.
And thus it came to pass that sleep settled accross the land, but not in the House of Lodewijks, where a forty six year old male  trapped in the mindset of a twenty year old tossed and turned and grumbled in his bed.
 There would be no dreams tonight and the hours dragged by slower than a school awards ceremony.


Coffee has an exotic allure that raises images of beans being hand picked in wild far off lands by young scantily clad maidens and the sweet scent of their bodies intermingling with the flavour of the beans. Roasted and distributed to all corners of the earth for us to enjoy the musky warmth and seduction that is known simply as coffee.
It is the "clever juice" of our generation and the coffee shops lure us in with promise of guaranteed satisfaction and friendship. It has been mixed with vanilla ice cream, with steamed frothy o so damn sexy milk and even incense.

Where we associate tea with the English and their wet miserable weather and snobbish tones, coffee is the drink that removes all hints of snobbery and is available and enjoyed by prostitutes and priests, round people and stick people, bikini clad models and lovers of little squeaky shivering dogs. It is friendly, it embraces life and kisses you as it touches your lips.

So tonight, make yourself a mug of coffee and reminisce life and contemplate who you will share your next  mug with.

Nite All

And to Claire, thank you for a wonderful evening.

A New Beginning

A remark made by a very good friend (One that I had a massive crush on in High School hehe) and confirmed by others for a while made me realise that a new hat had to be worn by me.
It can become "comfortable" to live glancing over ones shoulder expecting the demons and ghosts of Memories Past to pop up and attempt to dominate and affect your future.

An example would be Christmas. Christmas to me became a tradition of family and friends, a large home-cooked meal and laughter followed by a doze (also known as a meditative relapse) on a couch and then a cleaning up operation of note. It was a time where no cost was spared and credit cards, cash and accounts were pillaged and plundered the way a puppy would devour your favourite slipper. There were traditions that included the erection of the tree, dusty boxes weighing more than Aunt Eva's bottom brought  down and unveiled. Not Aunt Eva's bottom but the boxes Mark.
Lights, millions of wooden characters and scratching my dogs head as she watched all of this with the excitement of observing a snail waiting for its Garmin to acquire satellites.
It was a lovely Hallmark moment and I loved it.

This will be my third Christmas since the divorce and my girls and I are still attempting to find our groove, there is no tree, there is no dog and Aunt Eva and her bottom and bosom are long forgotten. I am peace with the new Ted and we are getting along pretty damn well when he isnt trying to go cold turkey and bulldoze his way through time and space.

So it is with a smile that salute and thank Dr Ted's Divorce Adventure and welcome Dr Ted's Life Adventure.

Lights, camera, action and please no white speedos, after all parental guidance is advised for sensitive stomachs.

Bless you all for your comments, thoughts and encouragement. All are appreciated and accepted with an open mind.

Nite All

Odd Encounters

I arrived at the location and felt a cold chill up my spine.

It was a sandblasting and spraypainting business all done under the open sky. It was an opening surrounded by trees, the kind you see where captive people escape and run into the trees in terror. Broken equipment lay everywhere and we were led into his office where 3 large portly men were taping up pumps for spraying.

There had an inbred wild charm about them that gave you the feeling of a deer facing oncoming truck lights.
They also very seldom looked you in the eye and the boss man had 3 of his front teeth missing and his very disturbing lisp had the menace of a mountain evangelist about him. I did my inspection, always keeping them in sight and being very sure not to accidently photograph them. My concern was that the flash might suddenly cause them to turn on me like the Kardashian girls on a single male.

I wrote my report sitting on a semi torn wobbly chair that seemed to draw me in like a pitbull wagging its tail. Then time to leave and I stood slowly, smiled and walked into the open. One followed and 2 sized me up making me feel all kinds of violated. Was it my imagination or did he hold my hand a little too long when we shook hands goodbye and then he shook hands again. Short memory scan or was he confirming my scent?

If I heard the slightest hint of duelling banjos, it was my intention to run into the forest screaming like the audience at an Oprah Christmas Special.

I did not ask for the restroom in case I stumbled across a chained decomposing body of a cheerleader or worse, a pink floral design toilet with knitted toilet seat cover.

In my line of work I get to see some out of the ordinary people and places and it makes me appreciate city life so much more.

Nite all.

The Girl on the Roof

"She sprouts fire in the split of the proverbial eye
She oozes appeal that'll make a grown man cry
Her shoes, her eyes her musical passion
A mother a princess and a lover for fashion
When she welcomes you in she means all she says
But break her circle of trust and you better say your prayers
She'll cut you deep she'll watch you bleed
Yet save your life if that's what you need
So check on the roof and maybe you'll discover
The mystery girl a friend and a passionate mother"

Sometimes in life by some stroke of chance, a person crosses your path and leaves an impression you cannot forget.
They burst in and pick you up and hover, they smile and get angry and calm down, they inspire and motivate and open a door.

Not having met her I am astounded at her kindness and willingness to share, so we chat and message and laugh and frown.

Good nite to the girl on the roof all alone
As she listens to music and waits for her love to come or to phone

 
She's protective of those who are close to her and is as comfortable in the boardroom as she is splashing in puddles in her heels with kids.

Does she exist, is she real? She had better or else I have been conversing with an imaginary friend.

Her voice is alive, energetic with a hint of naughtiness and yet I believe she could change to an angry protective lioness in the blink of an eye.

So to you the Girl on the Roof, thank you for bursting into my life, it has been a wonderful adventure so far.

Nite All

Lapses in Life

Have you ever felt like you have forgotten something really important? It starts off as a mild itch and finally it is a huge sneeze that makes you stop and say "That's it, I need to remember what it is".

So you start your check;
1 - belt - there
2 - underwear - there
3 - watch - there
4 - wallet - there
5 - matching shoes - there (don't laugh I once arrived at work wearing one black and one brown shoe)
6 - miniature frozen penguin keyring - only kidding just checking you're still with me.

It was only when I walked into the office and someone asked me if I had tried to skin myself alive that it dawned on me.
I had cut myself shaving a few times that morning because I was using a really cheap razor and had been too stubborn to change halfway. I looked like a walking post-stic memo board. These were the days where I had no hair and shaved my head as well. The little pieces of toilet paper were still all over my head.

This is more likely to happen if you are single or divorced as you don't have someone special to see you off in the morning with a hug and a kiss.
Then off to our hamster routine and hours of running on our treadmill before we arrive home tired.

The joy of divorce is that you can come home and you can chill, eat supper if you want to, lie on your bed and not feel guilty, have a bath or not and read the newspaper or a magazine uninterrupted. You have the freedom to decide what you want to do.

If your brain does short circuit and you momentarily forget where you are, it doesn't matter, reality will be waiting for you when you return. I have 2 daughters, beautiful girls so uniquely different in appearance and personality and yet I forget their names or get them confused with each other.

I regularly forget a password or important date and this is really going to rock your socks off, it doesn't matter, life carries on.

I get so disturbed by the little things that I sometimes forget the bigger picture, get distracted and lose focus and need to either bump my head to get it back in order or hear that "friggen hell Ted" shake me back to reality.

Basically, life doesnt wait for you, but the amazing part is you can join in and carry on pretty effortlessly. Its not a race but a journey.

Good Nite All