Say What?

So, I go into my local Checkers and ask for the health food section.  After getting a puzzled look, I try asking for pumpkin seeds.  No?  Maybe that's too obscure.  Sunflower seeds?  I see the lightbulb go on, and follow the shop assistant to...the gardening section, where she proudly shows me the range of Starke Ayres seeds.

(This type of conversation is not limited to Mthatha though.  A few years ago, Bob went into Builders Warehouse with a full bladder.  He asked where the toilets were, and he was directed to Aisle 9. You've guessed it - the sanitaryware section)

Day Trip to Port St John's

On Sunday, we decided it was time for another outing, this time to Port St John's, which is about 70km from Mthatha, and at the mouth of the Umzimvubu River.

I've seen plenty of breathtaking pics of the Wild Coast coastline, and was looking forward to seeing it in all its panoramic glory. The countryside was beautifully green and lush, but unfortunately it's useless for farming, as it's too mountainous.

As we drove into the village, one of the first things I noticed was the proliferation of signs like this all along the beach front. The next thing I noticed was the blatant disregard for this regulation.

Broken glass and empty beer cans all around the car park. Even so, people were enjoying themselves on the beach and in the sea,  despite the warnings about sharks.

And of course, the entrepreneurs were present, with the uber-versatile wheelbarrow acting as a mobile braai.

This magnificent fellow also thought it was a great day for the beach

Election posters for May last year are still up - as in Mthatha.  Admittedly, this one could be a bit tricky to reach.

We went to Amapondo Backpackers for lunch.  On the back of this sign was another notice, asking us to keep the gate closed, to stop the donkeys from getting out.  When we arrived, the gate was open, and the donkeys were nowhere to be seen.  We knew where they were though - we'd seen some donkeys hanging around the braai area on the beach - hoping for tidbits.

Okay...

After lunch, we went exploring.  There are houses dotted all along the cliff tops.  At lookout points there were women selling beautiful beadwork.  We didn't see any other cars while we were up there, so business must have been very slow.

Someone found a bit of flatness, and planted a vegetable patch. The colour variation in the sea is probably caused by the fresh water of the Umzimvubu River mixing with the sea water. The 'stripe' runs for kilometres, and is this straight as far as we could see.

Love it!

Interesting combination.  And just in case you can't read, here's a picture to help you make up your mind.

A deserted beach.  Well, almost.

On the way home, we noticed kilometre upon kilometre of concrete pathways next to the road.  Good to see some infrastructure development.  Would be nice if some of it was sent in the direction of our potholes.

Now we know where white bakkies go to die.

Transkei Traffic Lights

I've just dropped Bob at the airport for one of the only two flights out of Mthatha today. Stopped by Transkei Traffic Lights on my way back.

All You Need is Love

While shopping at my local Spar on Saturday, I complimented an employee on his impressive apple packing skills. He gave me a big grin and said, "Thanks ma'am. Look, I wrote something too." I had to take a few steps back to read it.

Even in Mauritius...

We stopped over in Mauritius for a bit of R&R on our way to Australia.


There was a bit of a mix up with our car hire booking. 

"Don't worry", says the man (in a delicious French accent), "I have another vehicle for you. And it's in a higher bracket than you booked, and you pay no more, okay?" 

"Okay," we say.

At least we can be grateful it's not white.

You want WHAT?

I'm sure you'll agree that trying to get the copy of a document certified can be a tad inconvenient.

Mthatha takes this inconvenience to a whole new level...

Off I go to Mthatha Plaza to do a few chores, including buying a Pilates mat (Don't ask.  I'll tell you when the pain subsides).  I pop into the first bank I see - ABSA.  Nope, they won't certify my copy, they only do internal bank stuff.  I told them that Standard Bank does it.  Fine, they said, go to Standard Bank.

But they won't do it either.

Me: But they do it in Cape Town.
Her: Well, we don't do it here.
Me: Then where must I go?
Her: The police station.
Me: Where's that? (Uh oh, here we go again )
Her: In Madeira Street

(Madeira Street is the N2. It also has a very complicated system of one-ways with three lanes and taxis double-parking as far as you can see.)

Eventually I find it, and a parking bay.  These entrepeneurial chaps have set up shop outside the cop shop, and were quite busy.  Also quite puzzled when I asked if I could take a photo.

Pop-up Print Shop.  Who needs Top Copy when you have a generator, laptop, scanner and printer?

Surprisingly, there was no queue inside the police station.  But no, the lady behind the counter said, we can't certify your copy.

Me: Seriously?
Her: Yes, we're a satellite station.  Only the main station can certify copies.  But you can go to a post office.
Me: Where's the closest one?
Her: Yho.  It's complicated to explain with all the one-ways...

I got there eventually, and was confronted with a scene much like this:

Bob took this photo of the Post Office on 7 April.

I spotted a door with a sign:  Branch Manager Tel:  047 531 1869.  Ha!  I thought, I'll just phone and ask which is the right queue to stand in.

Why was I surprised when there was no answer?

Then I spotted an employee at a desk helping a customer fill in a form, so thought I'd ask her.

Her: You must go to Counter 10
Me: But don't you do it here? (I'd spotted the rubber stamps on her desk)
Her: Yes, but you have to get a copy first
Me: I have my own.
Her: No, you must get one from the Post Office.  From Counter 10.
Me: But why? Surely my copy is good enough?
Her: No, you must get a copy from Counter 10.
Me: Look at my copy, you can see there's nothing wrong with it

She tries a different tack...

Her: You don't have to pay for the copy, it's free
Me: I don't mind paying, I just don't want to stand in a queue when I have a perfectly good copy.
Her: But you must pay to have the document certified.  One rand.
Me: I don't mind paying the one rand, but I do mind standing in a queue.
Her: You must pay your one rand at Counter 10. You can ask the people in the queue if you can go in front of them.

Yeah right. Like I'm keen to jump that queue.

Realising that this was going nowhere, I asked where else I could get my (now rather tatty) copy certified.

Her: An attorney or an accountant.

I knew that.

I find an accountant's office without too much difficulty.  Except that it's now 1.30pm and he's on lunch. The receptionist told me that he wasn't expected back today and there was no-one else who could help me, so I should try an attorney.  There is one in Leeds Road.

Hurrah, I know where that is!

In Leeds Road, a sign outside a block of flats proclaims the presence of an attorney.  After traipsing up and down stairs looking for signage, I ask a resident for help. Number One, she says.  Number One is locked. And silent.

As I head for my car, I see another attorney's office over the road.  Hope springs eternal...

Well, this encounter was well worth the hassle of the journey.  I met an incredibly interesting woman, who not only willingly certified my copy, but was happy to spend some time chatting.

Gogo, as her staff call her, started her working life as a teacher, but was forced to leave teaching when she got married (those were the rules back then).  She then became a nurse.  During that time, she started her family and studied law.  After leaving nursing, she worked in London, Cape Town, Soshanguve, East London and elsewhere, doing all sorts of law stuff, including writing parliamentary legislation. She returned home to Mthatha in 2009, vacating the position of Senior State Law Advisor: Department of Justice. She is a great-grandmother and her three children have settled all over the world.

I hope I have chance to meet her again and get to know her better.

Does anyone need a document certified?  I know just where to go...

More School Stuff

I've been spending a bit more time at the local primary school, standing in for teachers who are sick or otherwise occupied, and rehearsing for a Grade Project on the Rainbow Nation (more about that later).

Apart from the two hours when I had to occupy 100 (yes, one hundred) Grade Threes while the teachers were busy with inspectors and parents, my most challenging time has been taking the Grade 6 and Grade 7 classes for Maths and Science.  For three whole days.

I swear I only started learning algebra in high school

My home base for those three days was the Science Lab.  Bonus!.  When last did you see these things?

Nowadays you usually see bottles like this in display cabinets in pharmacies

These bring back memories of colourful and peculiar smoke and smells from my own school days

One of the teachers claims that her appendix is in one of these jars.  Not so sure what the toothpicks are doing on the shelf though.

Typical science teacher's desk. I particularly like the toilet roll.  My surname is apparently quite difficult to pronounce, so I am called Mrs G.  Or ma'am.

Remember the day each year when school came to a standstill for class photos?  And those signs for each photo where each letter had its own special shade of off-white?

The school celebrated its 20th birthday during September.  As you can imagine, getting this picture together in close to 30 degrees Centigrade was quite a feat in patience and discipline.

The walls around the outside of the school are painted green, yellow and black. For the first few months in Mthatha I thought that this was because Mthatha is an ANC stronghold.  Needless to say, I felt rather silly when it dawned on me that the colour scheme is a reflection of the school colours.

How cool is that!

Last Tuesday, during second break, Umtata High School Band came to play for the kids.  Here's a sample of what they played:

There is no band teacher at Umtata High - the pupils pass their knowledge on to the new band members each year. Very few of them can read music. Proof that if you want to do something badly enough, you will succeed.

It is particularly appropriate that the band is playing R Kelly's "I Believe I Can Fly'"

(When you watch it for the second time, have a look at the audience - singing and dancing.  The kids at the back on the right are in Grade Three.  They've just learned how to knit [boys and girls] and some of them are knitting while dancing.)

The more time I spend at this school, the more hope I have for this country.  There are some extremely bright young sparks coming through the system, and I look forward to watching them as they follow their paths to success.