Verandering

June 23, 2016June 26, 2016 / Christina B / 11 Comments

Geskryf in opdrag van Scrapydo2 se Toeka-Tokkel: Verandering.

(Apologies to non-Afrikaans readers.)

Ek het nog nooit baie gehou van verandering nie. Ek weet nie of dit iets te doen het met die feit dat as kind, ons nooit getrek het nie. Ek het in een huis grootgeword, na een laerskool en een hoërskool gegaan. Wat wonderlike stabiliteit was as kind, het my moontlik avers gemaak vir verandering later in my lewe – wie sal ooit weet.

Ek raak tuis in my gemaksone en sien dan geen rede om enigiets daaraan te verander nie. Maar hierdie karaktertrek het ek eers met die verloop van tyd in myself herken. Ander mense is baie meer avontuurlustig en pak sommer maklik ‘n nuwe uitdaging aan. So het ek lang trane gehuil toe ek besef het my man was ernstig oor trek uit Suid-Afrika. Vanuit my (gemaksone) oogpunt het ek net nie dieselfe dringendheid ervaar nie. Op die ou end het hy my oorgehaal met ‘n avontuur in Dubai vir ‘n paar jaar.

Steeds was dit nie vir my maklik nie – die agterlaat van ‘n lewe wat opgebou is oor jare, familie, vriende en alles wat daarmee saamgaan – maar die gedagte dat dit nie permanent sou wees nie het die verandering draaglik gemaak. Dit het uitgedraai in ‘n wonderlike avontuur, al het ons vir minder as ‘n jaar daar gebly (of miskien juis vir daai rede, iets waaroor ek soms wonder. Miskien was dit juis so interressant, eksoties en anders omdat ons weer weggetrek het voordat enigiets kon alledaags raak.)

Op pad na ons avontuur in Dubai met Emirates

Dit was in 2004. Die werksaanbod vanuit Perth het gekom drie maande nadat ons in Dubai ingetrek het. Ek het net begin aanpas by linkerhandstuur, bestuur aan die regterkant van die pad, vreemde winkels en produkte, nuwe vriende, skole en lewenstyl toe ek besef die Perth ding is ‘n werklikheid wat ek nie kon ignoreer nie. Dit was ‘n aanbod wat ons eenvoudig nie van die hand kon wys nie. Na baie sielewroeging (ek het net begin tuis voel in Dubai) het ek besef dat nog verandering en trek na ‘n derde kontinent in ‘n kwessie van 10 maande, onvermydelik is.

Noudat ek terugdink wonder ek watter verandering die grootste was – Stellenbosch na Dubai of Dubai na Perth – en dis moeilik om te sê. Stellenbosch na Dubai was ‘n groot kulturele aanpassing, maar vir dieselfde rede ook baie pret. Dit was die eerste groot verandering waarby ek myself moes belê. Bygesê, in my agterkop was dit altyd net tydelik. Om die tweede groot (en hierdie keer permanente) verandering so kort na die eerste te maak was nie maklik nie.

Maar miskien was dit die lewe se manier om my te leer dat dit moontlik is om êrens anders gelukkig te wees. Dat sodra ek die besluit gemaak het wat ek geweet het die beste sal wees vir my familie op die langtermyn, ek dit sal maak werk. Dat ek eintlik enige plek kon woon, solank my familie gesond en veilig was. Dat ‘n lewe anders as wat ek tot 13 jaar gelede vir myself ingedink het beter kan wees. Ek moes net leer (op die harde manier vir my) om oop te wees vir ander moontlikhede.

Tyd het gelukkig ‘n manier om aan te stap en ons het kort voor lank gewoond geraak aan Perth as ons huis, en Perth het gewoond geraak aan ons. Ons is nou so tuis en gelukkig hier dat ons lewe in Stellenbosch voel soos ‘n veraf herinnering. Hierdie is nou ons lewe en realiteit en ek is so dankbaar dat ek die veranderings deurgemaak het wat ek het.

Tyd het my ook geleer dat verandering ‘n gegewe is in die lewe. Soms gebeur daai veranderings net meer geleidelik as ander kere en dis eers wanneer jy besig is om die verandering te beleef dat jy daarvan bewus word. So het ons kinders grootgeword en van die drie is nou net een nog op skool. Kinders op universiteit wat motors bestuur is weer iets anders om aan gewoond te raak. En net soos ek dink ek het hierdie fase onder die knie sal die volgende fase my seker in die gesig staar. Ek hoop die veranderings oor die jare het my darem ook gevorm en help groei as mens.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Ornate

November 7, 2015November 7, 2015 / Christina B / 9 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Ornate.”

I fell in love with the exquisite detail in this antique silver Omani clutch bag the moment I saw it at the Blue Souk in Sharjah in the United Arab Emirates. The artistry involved in creating this beautiful piece never ceases to amaze me.

Antique Silver Omani clutch bag

Bestuur

October 12, 2015October 21, 2015 / Christina B / 14 Comments

(Apologies to non-Afrikaans readers.)

Geskryf na aanleiding van Scrapydo se Toeka-Tokkel onderwerp vir die week: Bestuur. Ek het leer bestuur op ons kleinhoewe in die Kaap – enigiets van ons klein Isuzu Elf trokkie (dit was so stadig my pa het altyd gesê jy kan sommer uit tweede rat uit wegtrek) tot ons Kombi. Wanneer my pa die dag met my op die pad gaan ry het het hy besluit hy het ‘n sterker kreet as “Stop” nodig gehad wanneer ek nie gou genoeg gereageer het nie. Om die dringendheid van sommige situasies aan my oor te dra het hy besluit dat “Nood stop!”, “Nood stop!” die gewenste uitwerking sal hê. Vir ‘n tyd lank het dit mooi gewerk tot ek (met tipiese 17-jarige alwetendheid) eendag toe hy weer roep “Nood stop!” so skielik, so hard op die rem getrap het dat my arme pa se kop die truspiëeltjie voor teen die venster losgestamp het. Ek het darem geleer wat ek moes leer om my lisensie te kry die dag na my 18e verjaarsdag. Die verkeersbeampte het nogal gesê “Jy is gretig om jou lisensie te kry” toe hy na my ID kyk en sien ek is 18 jaar en 1 dag oud.

So het ek die Kaapse paaie vir die volgende veertien jaar gery tot ons Dubai toe getrek het in 2004. Gelukkig het ek nie nodig gehad om weer ‘n bestuurstoets daar te doen nie, maar ek het bitter vining hare op my tande gegroei toe ek op daai paaie begin bestuur het. Die eerste nuwe ding waaraan ek gewoond moes raak was linkerhandstuur en dan om te ry aan die regterkant van die pad. En niemand ry stadig op daai paaie nie. As jy nie selfgeldend bestuur en vir jouself ‘n plek neem nie bly jy agter. Die grootste verandering was om teen jou instink in eerste links te kyk en dan regs. Ek is aan die diep kant ingegooi want sommige dae moes ek die kinders by die skool gaan optel en die padwerke en verkeer tussen ons huis in Dubai en die skool in Sharjah (die volgende Emiritaat) was rof. Sit nou daarby die instruksies van ”as jy hier ry kyk uit vir die Dubai/Abu Dhabi teken, dan is dit 3 “interchanges” en dan neem jy daai afdraai. As jy soontoe gaan, moet jy die Ras al Khor afdraai neem, maar dit sê nie Ras al Khor op die borde totdat jy al klaar afgedraai het nie. (!!!!) Onthou altyd: Route 311 (Emirates Road) en Route 44.” Hoe onthou ‘n mens al hierdie goed die eerste keer sonder ‘n toetslopie terwyl karre verby jou ry en voor jou inry voordat jy nog ‘n kans gehad het om dit te registreer? Ek het dit darem gemaak tot by Sharjah maar die eerste keer wat ek uit die stad uit huis toe gery het, het ek reg verby ons woonbuurt se afdraai geskiet (alles lyk dieselfde in die woestyn) en kort voor lank was daar net sandduine in sig en manlief het net sy kop geskud “want hy het mos vir my instruksies gegee voor ons uit die stad weg is”.

Daar was baie verkeerssirkels of “roundabouts” soos hulle daar genoem word, sommige met vier bane reg rondom met verkeer wat konstant van alle kante af insny. Op ‘n stadium het ons erge wind en sandstorms beleef en die lug was vaal en deinserig en ‘n mens kon min sien. Eendag het dit behoorlik gestorm en toe ek en die kinders verby Nad al Sheba (die Perde- en Kameelrenbaan) ry, sê ek vir die kinders ek is seker die kamele kan nie in ‘n sandstorm oefen nie. Elke keer wat ons daar verbygery het het ons die “canimals”, soos driejarige Kind Nr 3 hulle genoem het, sien oefen. Duidelik was die kamele en ruiters meer gehard as ons want daar was hulle: getrou soos altyd, selfs in die middel van ‘n sandstorm. Die kinders was gefassineer deur die kamele. Op die terugpad was een hele baan van Emirates Road naby Nad al Sheba toe onder die sand!

Die dag van Kind Nr 3 se eerste swemles by die Dubai Country Club moes ek vir die eerste keer self soontoe ry. Die eerste deel van die pad was op ‘n pad wat ek ken, maar dan was daar ‘n paar snaakse draaie. Om alles verder te kompliseer moes ek ‘n vrou ontmoet by die Country Club voor die swemles, oor ‘n moontlike gratis maand lidmaadskap maar eers moes ek wag tot die skoolbus vir Kind Nr 1 en Nr 2 afgelaai het. Alles het goed gegaan tot ek by die tweede snaakse draai reguit gery in plaas van afgedraai het. Die naaste afdraai wat ek toe kry bring my toe by Nad al Sheba (die Kameelrenbaan) se ingang! Die laaste plek waar ek wou wees! Manlief het gebel en gevra of ons al daar is. Ek sê nee ek het verkeerd gery maar ek sien hier is aanwysings na Emirates Road, ek sal my pad vind van daar af. Famous last words. By Emirates Road gekom neem ek dit toe verkeerde kant toe. Wat andersins nie ‘n groot probleem sou wees nie want jy neem mos net weer die volgende afrit en draai om. Die enigste probleem is dat die volgende afrit toe eers 20km verder is! Toe ek op die pad kom het ek geweet hier’s ‘n probleem, want dis dieselfde pad as die een wat ons Abu Dhabi toe geneem het! Ek wou nie Abu Dhabi toe gaan nie, dis 150km weg! Teen daai tyd was ek al so moedeloos ek het begin vra wat kan dan nou nog verkeerd loop. Toe gaan die petrol liggie aan! Terwyl dit alles aan die gang is sing James Brown oor die radio “I feel good!” Miskien jy James Brown, maar nie ek nie. Die uiteinde was dat ons heeltemaal laat was vir my afspraak en Kind Nr 3 se swemles. Die hele petalje (van waar ek verkeerd gery het tot terug by die huis, met nood aanwysings van manlief tussendeur per selfoon), het ‘n uur geduur en dit het my gekos by die huis swem met Kind Nr 3 omdat sy so hartseer was oor haar swemles wat sy gemis het. En dit op die eerste dag hier wat koel was, vries ek toe in die swembad vir my sondes.

Na ‘n paar maande daar het my selfvertroue darem bietjie beter geraak en naderhand het ek graag die pad Sharjah toe aangedurf om te gaan rondsnuffel by die bekende Blue Souk (mark). Een middag moes ek Kind Nr 2 dringend by die hospitaal kry nadat sy ‘n allergiese reaksie vir sekere medikasie ontwikkel het, en ek het soos ‘n wafferse wedrendrywer my hoofligte aangesit, in die vinninge baan in beweeg en my voet neergesit. Nood leer regtig bid. Later van tyd het ek selfs – na ek die padkaart mooi bestudeer het (dit was voor die tyd van “Google Maps”) – Dubai se middestad aangedurf om te gaan verken.

Na al daai adrenaliengevulde ondervindings op die paaie was Perth se paaie ‘n groot kontras want almal het mooi by die 100km/h spoedlimiet gehou op die snelweg. Net toe ek begin gewoond raak het aan Dubai se paaie het ons weer getrek en toe lees ek weer van voor af padkaart, maar gelukkig het alles rondom my aan die “regte” kant van die pad en teen ‘n respektabele spoed beweeg. Een deel van my Dubai-bestuurstyl het egter veroorsaak dat ek eendag nie lank na ons in Perth aangekom het nie, deur die polisie van die pad afgetrek is. Groot was my skok want ek hou daarvan om die regte ding te doen maar dit blyk toe dat U-draaie by verkeersligte hier in Perth onwettig is. Ek verduidelik toe mooi dat ek nie geweet het nie en dat dit in Dubai ‘n groot deel van die verkeerstelsel vorm. Hulle laat my toe maar gaan na ‘n waarskuwing.

So het ons gewoon en bestuur in Afrika met sy koedoe-, vlakvark- en olifantswaarskuwingsbordjies, toe in Dubai met kameelwaarskuwingsbordjies en nou in Australië met kangaroowaarskuwingsbordjies. En die tyd het vinning aangestap en ons moes al ons oudste twee kinders leer bestuur so ek het ‘n paar maal al gedink aan my pa se “Nood stop” kreet. Sommige dae wanneer ek langs die leerder-bestuurder gesit het kon ek letterlik voel hoe kry ek nog grys hare by die minuut en my hart het in my keel geklop en nou en dan skop my regtervoet onwillekeurig vorentoe vas om ‘n spookrempedaal in ‘n nood stop vas te trap, en dan moet ek myself herinner om asem te haal tot ons weer by die volgende situasie kom. Hoe het die tyd dan so vinning verbygegaan vandat ek leer bestuur het tot ek my kinders moet leer bestuur?

Koedoewaarskuwingsbordjie in Namibië

Vlakvarkwaarskuwingsbordjie in Namibië

‘n Kameelwaarskuwingsbord naby Dubai

‘n Hoofpad buite Dubai – net nadat ons die kameel waarskuwingsbord gesien het.

Getting Scorched

March 20, 2015April 12, 2015 / Christina B / 4 Comments

Sunny Southern Hemisphere climates offers such freedom of lifestyle. Only for a relatively short period of time does one have to rug up with cumbersome, warm and weather proof winter clothes (and even then we get over it pretty quickly and dream of the warm sunshine to come). There’s something relaxed about an outdoor lifestyle, to have picnics in the sunshine and enjoy beautiful clean beaches, to walk out the door, get in the car and go places never having to shovel any snow, to be able to exercise and play sport outdoors basically all year round and to fiddle in the garden almost year round. I love the sunny climate, blue skies, being outside in the fresh air, balmy summer nights and to feel the warm sunshine.

Growing up in Cape Town with its moderate climate we had beautiful summers but nothing extreme in terms of heat. When I spent a couple of summer holidays in the Kalahari on my sister and brother-in-law’s farm in my university days it was a different story though. With temperatures rising to above 35°C most days it was tough working outside but the work doesn’t wait for the heat to subside so onwards and upwards we went. One particular stinking hot day a herd of cattle had to be mustered and moved from one paddock to another, some kilometres away. We were on horseback following behind and on the side, swallowing the dust the cattle kept kicking up but they were a difficult bunch and every few minutes when we thought we had them moving along nicely, one would break away to the side and one of us would have to canter off in pursuit and bring it back quick smart before any of the others noticed and decided to follow suit (which they inevitably did if you weren’t quick). One breakaway playing truant was manageable, definitely not half a herd. Others would keep in line but sneak a look to see if they could escape and if you weren’t onto them straight away either showing them that the only way is forwards, they’d make a dash for it. And every now and again one would just inexplicably stop right in front of you and if you weren’t paying attention you’d have passed it before you knew, and then it’s turn around and go back around it at full speed before it gathered pace. All of this through relatively thick bush and trees so it was a challenge to keep them in sight and not lose one or two amongst the bushes. We’d counted them before we took off and had to count them again afterwards to make sure none got left behind somewhere. Passing through gates from paddock to paddock was interesting – if the gate was open it would be relatively simple as long as we could gather them together again quickly on the other side before they dispersed and spread out into the veld, but if the gate was closed someone had to ride up ahead without scaring the herd and causing them to scatter in every direction, hop off and open it and get out the way before they got there. It was hot, dry and dusty, it hadn’t rained for a while and we were in the thick of it for about 5 hours doing some good old hard yakka but it was so much fun. It was so good to do some hard physical work. I’d done it many times before but this particular day was so hot and we were in the saddle for so long that by the time we’d delivered them to their destination, counted them through (and thank goodness they were all there as it wasn’t a small herd either) and got back to the farm house all I could do was change into my bathers, jump into the dam and float in the cool water for about half an hour. The ice cold beer after that was the best medicine and although the heat of that day has been burnt into my memory forever I’ll always remember it very fondly.

Beloved Kalahari

When we moved to Dubai we anticipated struggling with the heat but we were spoilt with houses, shops and offices all being properly air conditioned and our villa’s windows had double glazing which meant that the temperatures only ever affected you as you moved between air conditioned areas such as unpacking the groceries from the car and doing about five trips carrying it up the stairs of the house to the front door (carrying as many bags as possible each time to minimise the number of trips) or when I left the shops and went out to the car park in the summer heat and humidity my glasses always fogged up instantly! For the larger part of the year the temperatures weren’t unbearable and when it was hot it was a dry heat but peak summer brought with it daytime temperatures of somewhere over 40°C with very high humidity, and night-time temps that didn’t really drop much below 30°C still with incredible humidity. After visiting our family and friends in South Africa during July/August 2004 we arrived back at the beautifully air conditioned Dubai airport in a false sense of security only to exit the airport building into a 30°C and 90% humidity wall of sauna heat at midnight. We swam so much that year but in the middle of summer the swimming pool water felt like bath water and we turned off our hot water system and used that water for cold water and the cold water tap for hot water because the water pipes were so shallow under the ground that the water used to get burning hot! The architecture and building style of the old Arabian buildings used to fascinate me with their clever design and latticed windows promoting the airflow so that hot air rose to flow out and cool air came in to keep the houses cool and spoilt as we are with air conditioners today I still find it astounding that people used to live without these luxuries in the sort of desert temperatures that I would suffer in, soft as I am.

Now Perth summers are hot, dry affairs with its share of heat waves with temperatures going up to over 40°C sometimes for a few days in a row with no sea breeze to cool things down and every now and then we get a good summer storm and I love these summer storms because they remind me of the Kalahari thunderstorms with mother nature showing off her power with loud thunderous cracks and electric lightning which usually resulted in a good downpour and much needed rain soaking into the dry earth and big fat drops noisily falling onto tin roofs. Downpours that could leave you soaked but still warm. So unlike winter storms.

A summer storm rolling in over our house a few years ago

When we went to support the Perth Scorchers in the Big Bash semi-final in January we sat sweltering in the sun with no shelter on a 40°C day waiting for the sea breeze to come in but it kept promising to come and just as we got our hopes up and I’d move forward in my seat as if to meet it it would disappear again, such a tease, and the WACA lived up to its nickname, The Furnace. It reminded me of the cricket test I went to watch with Ironman and his brother at Kingsmead cricket stadium in Durban back in ‘96/’97. Our seats were also in the full sun but we were allowed to take an umbrella and since I was pregnant at the time it saved the day for me but as the day wore on we were being joined by more and more supporters of the opposing team who’d decided that there was plenty of room for everyone in our little spot of shade. The more the merrier, until we were so tightly packed underneath that umbrella that no-one could breathe and we gave up and went home. That day at the WACA I would have loved to have had that umbrella though, or any little bit of shade for that matter, because there was just no escaping the oppressive heat and the fun element of the exciting cricket match was being scorched right out of it and I had to admit that much as I love our summers, I don’t enjoy getting scorched!

Confessions of a Non-Shopaholic

February 6, 2015February 7, 2015 / Christina B / Leave a comment

People rushing around. Filling shops and malls. Never stopping. Determinedly hurrying somewhere. Like ants on a mission we’re scuttling to get what it is that we need and take it home. Others leisurely going about their business with all the time in the world. It’s just not something I’ve ever considered relaxing or fun.

I’ve never loved shopping. Even as a child the hustle and bustle of lots of people in confined spaces that make shopping malls soon got to me. I’m not claustrophobic, I just don’t manage to be very patient in shops. Short, sharp and efficient trips to the shops are the solution. Go in, find what I need and get out is what works for me. I’ll admit to serious shopping-impatience and aversion and lack of perseverance in this department. Especially if there are lots of other things to be done. Spending an entire day going from shop to shop without finding what I’m looking for always got on my nerves, and still does. To complicate matters, I’ve always been very specific in what I like, so finding just the right thing can sometimes prove to be challenging and my mum used to show lots of patience as I’d inevitably get over it all long before we’ve found what I needed. I don’t have an aversion to buying something I like if I happen to cross paths with it though, such as gorgeous crystal or stone jewellery, I just don’t want to spend endless hours looking for it. Shopping for beautiful things in the fascinating Blue Souk (market) near Dubai was actually enjoyable, I have to admit, because you could buy the most exquisite and interesting things, from antique Omani silver jewellery (a hit for me) to Syrian tablecloths, Persian rugs and belly dancing outfits – I never did buy one of those – at very negotiable prices without it ever being packed with people. The Spice Souk in Dubai was amazing simply because of the alluring fragrance coming from sacks upon sacks packed in rows filled with spices that seemed to hold the key to take you to far away places and distant times. Browsing the odd craft market in a foreign place while on holiday or buying beautiful desert stones dug out by the local people in Namibia I manage to tolerate as well and I’d even go as far as to say I enjoyed it. But I’m definitely not cut out to be a serial shopper.

The Blue Souk In Sharjah (near Dubai)

A tiny corner of one shop in the Spice Souk (Dubai)

Crystals and stones for sale near Brandberg, Namibia

Grocery shopping is its own form of torture with people milling around, leaving their trollies mid-aisle and wandering over to the other side of the aisle to look at something while they block everybody else’s path and impatient me has to take several deep breaths and wait until I can pass. When we were first married my husband used to do the grocery shopping – from a very specific list that also included brand names where applicable – which was great except when he phoned me to tell me that something I’d asked for didn’t exist, and nowadays online shopping saves me spending so much time negotiating the supermarket trolley traffic. I don’t mind going to the shops before it gets too busy and getting a few things I need and getting out though, I just don’t consider wandering around shops to be a relaxing pastime.

It goes without saying then that I avoided going shopping with my babies in tow whenever I was able to as it all just ended up being too stressful but now that they’re older and actually able to help it’s a different scenario and it’s great having their help. Sometimes Child No 3 will go along to the supermarket to help me and at other times Child No 1 might hop in his car and nip down to the shop if I need something for dinner. Roles have started reversing in some cases and when they have to go shopping for something in particular they’ve already worked out that I’m not much help after about the second shop that we’ve been to because I’m too impatient, and sometimes they go on their own and search the shops for what they need, call me when they’ve found it and I’ll meet them, pay for their items and then we head home – everybody happy! These are the tricks of the trade for me.

Trying to find a year 12 ball gown for Child No 2 was a different kettle of fish though, as ball gown shops aren’t all conveniently located in one mall – so inconsiderate – and it meant driving from shop to shop, finding parking, paying for parking, walking between shops all on a day when it was 36°C by 9:30am. Not my idea of fun. To add insult to injury, my poor girl is also very specific in her taste and listed her requirements (no shiny fabric, no sequins, no pleats) before we left home. The only problem was that this year the going trend is shiny fabric, sequins and pleats but we stuck it out in a gutsy performance and after an exhausting marathon of patience and shopping, by the end of the day we found a beautiful dress that she loves and which makes her look like a million dollars.

My funniest shopping incident yet has to be the time I was trying on a dress and got stuck in it as it was halfway over my head. I was in a hurry to get dressed and out of the fitting room since there was an electrician working on the lights in the ceiling and he was making his way towards my cubicle. I had a very anxious moment or two as I had this frock stuck around my shoulders and then decided that as long as I was stuck, he wouldn’t be able to see my face so it didn’t matter that I’d made a complete spectacle of myself and suddenly I was free of it, changed back into my own clothes and rushed out at the speed of light. I never found out why the fitting rooms weren’t closed at the time – there were other shoppers in there as well – I was in too much of a hurry to leave the shop, and I can’t even claim to have been scarred by the incident, it was just too funny. I can’t help but wonder which one of us would have been the most embarrassed though, had I not managed to get myself unstuck!

My fondest shopping memory is of going grocery shopping – yes it’s true – with husband and Child No 1 tagging along when Child No 1 was a tiny little blonde-haired cheeky-grinned boy of about 3 and the two of them had wandered off and didn’t know where I was until our little boy put one of his hands on his head with the fingers sticking up and forward like a headlamp, swivelling it around and said: “I’ll put my Mamma-finding radar on” and looked for me with his hand on his head like that until they found me.

10 Years in this Great Southern Land

January 23, 2015August 24, 2015 / Christina B / 9 Comments

10 Years ago we boarded a plane from Africa and landed at Perth airport about 9 ½ hours later, walked out the airport into the late January heat feeling quite insignificant. The realisation that we knew no-one made this family feel a bit lost and it hit home as we walked into the “Arrivals” hall amidst people being welcomed and greeted by family, friends or business associates, not knowing anyone and subduedly making our way out the door to find a taxi. Arriving at our short-term rented apartment in the city the exhausted and jet-lagged kids fell asleep sitting up in chairs in the middle of the day while Ironman went out to organise a rental car and so our first week went by in a blurr of organising all the logistics of settling down in a new place with my husband having started his new job and the kids and I driving from one possible rental house to the next looking for one that would meet our requirements. We’d timed our arrival so the kids would be able to start the new school year which left us with 10 days to find a suitable school as well as a house to rent in the same suburb which proved to be a challenge in the middle of a mining boom and accommodation shortage but we managed to sign the lease for a nice house on the Friday afternoon and on Monday morning the kids started school on the first day of the new school year together with all the other kids. Two big and very important boxes were ticked.

As we’d said our farewells to friends in South Africa they would jokingly talk about the “honeymoon period” of a move to a new country such as we were doing being about three months, but having moved to Dubai just under a year prior and absolutely loving the adventure of that I felt like the honeymoon period was over when our plane landed in Perth. Being uprooted twice in under 12 months to move continents, settle down, make friends, ensure the kids are happy and doing well at school, finding substitute products in the shops to the ones you were used to, finding a hairdresser who cut my hair the way I liked it and all the rest of it, didn’t come naturally for someone who loves being in their comfort zone but I knew that this move was best for my family so I was determined to make it work. During our visit here in August 2004 while I was still grappling with the idea of having to move away from Dubai where we’d just settled a few months prior and the exotic adventure of which we were thoroughly enjoying I was under so much pressure from my husband to like Perth that I broke down in tears one day telling him exactly that: “You’re putting too much pressure on me to like it” but walking down Hay Street, Perth, another day during that visit I realised that I would be able to live in this city and that I would be able to make it work and knowing that was enough for me at that stage. I knew that the lifestyle would be better for the kids and the whole family in the long run.

Looking back, the first year was definitely the hardest but we made good, lasting friends who became our “Perth family” over time. We found the people of Perth to be very friendly, welcoming and accepting with a great sense of humour and got used to driving on the left-hand side of the road once again, everyone driving strictly at 100km/h on the freeway (after the manic speeds on the roads of Dubai), the green of the Eucalyptus which was very different to the bright and lively green of the oaks and plane trees in Stellenbosch which was one of the things I missed at first, the idea of not knowing when exactly we’ll see our family again, hearing many different accents around you every day, total fires bans during summer because of the extreme bush fire risk, and Vegemite. I only made one illegal U-turn (in my defence, I didn’t know it was illegal) and got pulled over for it by the police – much to my absolute distress, being someone who likes to do the right thing – but they accepted my explanation that in Dubai U-turns are the order of the day and a very large part of the traffic system. Having given up a work-life of accounts, financial statements, various types of tax returns, payrolls, monthly financial reports, spreadsheets and intricate cash flow forecasts built on different variables to being a stay-at-home-mum in exciting Dubai where everything was new and interesting and something as simple as picking up the kids from school was an excursion because of the distance, traffic and some crazy road users to contend with, to being a stay-at-home mum in a quiet Perth suburb where everything worked in an orderly manner as it should, it quickly felt like my world had shrunk to a triangle of going from home to school to the supermarket and back home and repeating the same day after day, and it didn’t take me long to feel a bit claustrophobic but after a weekend away in beautiful Yallingup and Margaret River after about four months I felt like my horizons had expanded and I could breathe again. With all of Ironman’s travels for work he didn’t experience this problem but instead found interesting places of exquisite natural beauty for us to visit as a family which we started doing as soon as time and budget allowed and before I knew it I’d fallen in love with the splendour that the Western Australian coastline and bush offers. The beautiful, clean beaches; colour of the water whether it be the crisp, clear Southern Ocean around Esperance and Albany or the warm, turquoise waters of Broome; the unique charm, beauty and magnetism of Rottnest Island that makes you never want to leave there; the red pindan sand of the Kimberley, age-old forests of the South-West and the vast open spaces. I love being in the countryside and still have the need to get out of the city every now and then and breathe some fresh air and I’m lucky to have the opportunity of so many great places to visit and many more gems of places yet to see. I discovered that one could actually live anywhere as long as your family was safe and healthy. I also realised that I only missed certain things (other than family and friends of course) about our life in South Africa when I actually stopped to think about those particular things (which didn’t happen every day), but when I did a deep yearning for some of those things and places would overcome me and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever visit a specific spot again and I’d miss the very distinct vibe that is so colourfully part and parcel of the rainbow nation and I learnt that a photo of an African dawn or sunset still pulls at the heartstrings like no other, but life keeps us busy and there was no time or point in longing for something that wasn’t a part of my daily life as it was at that point, dwell on it or mope about it. I have been very fortunate in that my family (near and far) are all in good health but we do miss them and have to remind ourselves that lots of people live far away from their families nowadays. We have so much to be grateful for living in a safe and beautiful place that offers the kind of freedom of amazing lifestyle that it does, and the privilege of so many opportunities. One cannot but love a country that offers you the opportunity to put on your shoes and head out for a safe morning walk on your own on a quiet country road you’ve never been on and to just follow the road to see where it takes you and to keep going to see what awaits around the next bend and then as a bonus to stumble upon views such as this:

View towards Yallingup, Cape Naturaliste Peninsula

A landmark moment in my memory was the first day of the kids’ second school year, one year after arriving. After having gone through so much change during the preceding 24 months and constantly feeling like I was doing something for the first time and still learning my way it hit me on that day and I thought: “I can do this. I’ve done it before.” Such a simple thing but it meant so much at that stage. After a while we started to feel like we’re not the newcomers anymore and that we really belonged here and embraced many things about the Aussie lifestyle such as gas barbeques (after having used coal for our braai all our lives) which meant that the barbeque was ready within minutes and also that I was able to cook something on the barbie without fuss when the man of the house was away; blower vacs (a blower and vacuum combo perfect for the garden); having a bread machine and making our own preservative free bread within two hours or less; the concept of “suck it up” (just get over it); driving for hours and then looking at the map and realising that we’ve only covered a small portion of this vast country, and to say “No worries” (no problem), to stop calling a traffic light a robot as well as lots of other descriptive sayings and acronyms. We wrote the citizenship test and became citizens on Australia Day in 2009; I’ve swallowed a fly – I think that should count for at least a 50% credit towards the citizenship test – and had many more near-misses like that; started a book club together with friends which has become a close knit group of us who treasures and looks forward to book club night on the calendar every month; I’ve given up the stay-at-home-mum status and took a part-time job in 2008; I now struggle to say phone numbers in Afrikaans which had been my first language for 30 odd years (I now feel like I have two first languages); come to appreciate the Freo doctor (cool sea breeze) on a warm summer’s arvo; we’ve enjoyed lots of sunset barbies at the beach with friends; have an annual “moving to Perth” anniversary dinner with friends who arrived within a week of us and whom we met at school on the first or second school day; done many a road-trip and love the vast beauty of this great southern land but I still catch myself sometimes as we drive home after a long trip away nearly saying we’re going back to the Cape (Cape Town) and not Perth, it must be so ingrained in me, and also discovered that it’s still heart-breaking when the Springboks lose a test match. Especially in Perth. I have a number of favourite places in WA though, from Denmark to Rottnest Island, Coral Bay and Broome, and love each one too much to choose it above another. After 10 years in Perth it’s fair to say that our experiences living in both South Africa and Australia (and throw in Dubai for good measure) have all shaped, formed and influenced us as people and I wouldn’t change it for a thing. This child of Africa will always have an unbreakable bond with Africa but is undeniably also Australian and loves living in Perth. Fair dinkum.