This post of Harsh Reality reminded me that there are people out there who are not constantly, as an everyday part of their lives, thinking about the dangers lurking around every corner due to crime.* What a fortunate position to be in.
The post reminds people to be safe during the holiday season, as there are many people who are going through tough times and, consequently, may turn to crime to ease their plight. So true, I thought. This time of year we are all manic: trying to finish up work before going on leave, organising and attending Christmas parties, dealing with family, attempting marathon gift buying sessions on the 24th of December at Sandton City (attempted suicide, I tell you) and getting the family packed and off to the coast, the bush or some exotic overseas destination. If ever there is a time of mass distraction, it is the silly season.
Christmas time is also in South Africa known for an increase in crime rates. A lot of people are walking about with big wads of cash for Christmas shopping or after receiving year-end bonuses. Homes are left unoccupied while people are on vacation, leaving them vulnerable to break-ins. The more liberal use of alcohol during the season also adds to the general lawlessness that ensues.
It struck me that the constant reality of crime in South Africa (not just in Johannesburg) is such that people here generally don’t need such a reminder. It has become such an integral part of our lives that we are wary, watchful and, sometimes, downright paranoid without having to think about it. If someone were to tell me to watch out for suspicious looking people hanging around near ATMs, I’d laugh and say, “Of course, do you think I’m stupid? What country do you think we live in?”.
In South Africa, it is pretty much standard practice to:
- check the rear view mirror when arriving at our front gates for cars following us or would-be attackers hiding behind the bushes on the sidewalk (said bushes being, of course, sufficiently trimmed to reduce the possibility of a nasty surprise)
- do 360 degree visual checks when stopping at traffic lights after dark to make sure there aren’t any tsotsi’s approaching your car for a smash-and-grab (that is if we stop at all)
- pay thousands of Rands each month for security companies with armed response (just to have the crap scared out of you when a guard unexpectedly appears on your door step with a big gun)
- have a collection of security cameras, iron bars, beams, motion detectors, electric fencing, attack dogs, pepper spray, guns and security company signs that would make Fort Knox green with envy
- be as suspicious of the police as of a person skulking around at night wearing a balaclava.
This Christmas, I wish that we can start to turn the tide against the flood of crime in this country, so that we can also live in a place where we need to be reminded to watch out for muggers at ATMs. Can you imagine that…?
* To qualify this statement, I am referring to people also living in more or less “normal” places. I realise that there are people who spend every day of their lives in horrendous and dangerous circumstances, like war zones in Africa or the Middle East. That is, of course, much worse than anything we experience in South Africa. There is always something to be thankful for.
I love books. I’ve been a keen reader since I can remember. According to my mother I had been very frustrated as a little kid by the fact that I could, at that time, not yet read. Once I remedied that problem, I read just about every book I could lay my hands on. Trips to the public library were a highlight of my childhood. I used to take not only my own but also my parents’ library cards and would borrow huge stacks of books. The hunt for interesting and intriguing books in the library was, in itself, an adventure. But the best part is the new friends you make and the worlds you explore once you start reading.
These days I struggle to find time to read. Since I started working, life got busier and precious reading time got less. When I get into bed in the evening I am usually lucky to stay awake long enough to read a magazine article, never mind a decent length chapter of a novel.
A great discovery I made a few years ago is the wonderful world of audio books. This way I can listen to books whilst getting dressed, driving or doing household chores. Most of the books I’ve “read” in the last five years or so were in this format. I find that, once you get used to listening to books, instead of reading them yourself, you can follow the story quite easily. Only if something out of the ordinary distracts me, I may need to rewind a bit to catch a section where I was not paying enough attention. And a good narrator is an absolute treat to listen to. I think that, sometimes, books can be better experienced by listening to a great narrator than by reading it yourself.
When I get the opportunity to spend some quality time reading, I grab it with both hands. This usually happens when we go on vacation. During December and January (being summer vacation time for South Africans) I overdose on reading, getting through as many as I can. The great thing about living in the 21st century is that we can transport a whole libraries on our phones and tablets and, in most instances, we can buy books anytime, anywhere. If you run out of books in the Lesotho mountains or on a tiny Thai island with no book shop anywhere nearby, no problem! If you go to a destination without WiFi or some other form of data connection, though, you better go prepared with enough of the real thing.
Throughout the year I gather a stack of books (bought, borrowed and received as gifts) on my bedside table, where they patiently lie and wait for holiday time to arrive. This stack sometimes ends up resembling a literary Tower of Pisa as year-end draws near.
In anticipation of a road trip to Namibia this coming December, I inspected the book stash and identified the reading list for the trip’s reading extravaganza. The selection is quite out of the ordinary for me, containing two non-fiction works and two Afrikaans books (English fiction being my usual staple).
1. On Writing – Stephen King
This book frequently features on lists of essential reading for aspiring writers. Who better to teach you something about writing than one of the greatest storytellers of our time?
2. Agaat – Marlene van Niekerk
This is a serious novel, not the type of book I read as a general rule. I like light entertainment, an escape from all the crap that we have to deal with every day in the real world. I suppose you can call me a bit of a lazy reader in this respect. But sometimes we have to confront more serious matters, also in our reading. Agaat is set in apartheid South Africa and explores the relationship between a white woman and her black domestic/care-taker. I saw this book on a friend’s bookshelf and promptly borrowed it, as I have been meaning to read Marlene van Niekerk’s work for some time.
3. Beseringstyd – FJ Labuschagne
This is quite an interesting addition to the holiday reading list. This is the debut work of a fellow South African lawyer (we know each other from varsity days). When I heard that he published a novel I was intrigued, as this is something that I would love to do one day. The subject matter (varsity rugby) is not something that would normally attract my attention. I am just really curious to see what he came up with.
4. My Brief History – Stephen Hawking
An autobiography by (arguably) the world’s smartest man. Once I’ve read this, I’ll give A Brief History Of Time another go. Never managed to get past the first few chapters.
5. The Picture of Dorian Gray and Other Works – Oscar Wilde
My brother-in-law bought me a hardcover collection of Oscar Wilde’s works some time ago. It has an old-fashioned, gold and silver embossed cover with gold page edges – so pretty that I am afraid I’ll damage it when reading. But I’ve decided it is now time to read this book. Maybe a bit of Oscar Wilde will do me good.
What do you read when you’re on vacation? Anything interesting on your reading list for an upcoming holiday?
Jack’s response to my letter of yesterday.
You hate me, I know it. You brought that horrible little mongrel to my house to torture me.
And no one is ever going to take me serious again with this ridiculous hair cut.
In response to The Daily Post’s prompt “Return Address“.
I know that the last few days have been trying for you, my boy. The introduction of a new baby to a household is never an easy thing.
You need to know that you are not being replaced. You are, and always will be, my little prince. Just because Jamie has been attached to my lap for most of the last few days does not mean that you will never again have a turn. Just give him a chance to settle in. He’s still a baby and very needy (believe me, I would like to be able to the loo without razor-sharp nails digging into my legs or, worse, high-pitched squeals of distress on the other side of the door). You were also like that when you were small, remember? But you are my big boy now, so you need to be brave and give the little one a turn to feel the safety and security of mom’s lap. Come bedtime, I promise that you will still be first in line to snooze on top of my legs until they go numb.
You are not being punished for anything. We adopted him because we like him (no, really, we actually do) and because we thought you and Meg would enjoy some younger company.
Please don’t be grumpy with your new brother. I know he can be quite annoying, hopping about around you, pulling your beard, playing with your toys and sleeping in your favourite spots. But be patient. Everything will settle down soon enough. Growling and snapping at him is not going to help the situation. You are just making mom and dad cross. And frankly, Jamie does not seem to be too fazed by it, so it is probably a waste of energy.
One plus is that there is now puppy food in the house, which you seem to like much more than your own vet-prescribed food. That makes things a bit better, doesn’t it?
I know that soon you will realise that Jamie is not so bad. In fact, I’m sure you are going to have a lot of fun playing together, chasing each other through the house and garden, and going for walks to the doggie park and the coffee shops on Fourth Avenue. I promise.
Until then, please don’t be so depressed. I want all my babies to be happy.
PS: Tomorrow you are going for your first dog parlour appointment. I know the timing is bad. Like I said, we are not trying to punish you. You will look so pretty with a nice, neat haircut. Really. Please don’t run away to the SPCA.
In response to The Daily Post’s prompt “Literate for a Day“.
I felt trapped, wanting, needing to break out and be free of the frustration and worry. I wanted to argue and shout and beg and cry (some more).
Instead I went cycling in the city of gold.
I fought the hills. I fought with you. I fought with God. And I fought myself.
I’m not sure. But it was good.
In the brisk morning air the grey clouds yielded to the sun.