What's it all about?

As I continue to read REWORK, I come across really good statements, that once again, taken out of the context of the book have a lot more meaning to me than possibly intended by the authors. 

You want to feel that if you stopped doing what you do, people would notice

 

In the context of the book this refers to the work we do. The book asks if you really love your job and if not, why aren't you doing something else? That's a whole topic on it's own and a question I am currently asking myself. But it's not the focus of my blog today. 

I've written before about the time-line and the mind-fuck that it is to me.  Try follow my line of thought......

 

I am essentially the end of a genetic line. My mother is the only daughter of her parents. Her father had a brother and a sister. His brother had one daughter. His sister never had any children. There ends his family name when my mother and her first cousin married and took on their husband's names. 

 

My father had one sister. She married and her children took on their father's family name. My father had a son and a daughter.  My sister passed away but even if she hadn't and had had children, they would have taken their father's family name. 

I am the end of the line, and the chances of me fathering a child are remote. My family name ends when I die. 

Now this is not to say that there aren't other people in the world with the same family name as mine, or as my grandfather's. But we aren't related; we just have the same name. 

Or are we?

The only way that I got here with the family name that I have was because someone with the same family name as mine had a kid, and they had a kid, and these kids were all boys who carried the name forward. I wonder if someone, 150 years ago sat in their cave and asked themselves what would happen if they didn't have a son, if their family name would disappear. Is it an internal and natural instinct that causes us to procreate? 

I think the real question is: "Does it matter after I'm gone?"

What matters the most to me, is that when I am, somebody notices.

REWORK

I have never been a fan of business and self-help books. When I read, I prefer to launch myself into a fictional world where I can imagine the characters and absorb myself into something other than what I do from day to day. I read a lot. Sometimes I read two books at a time and there is nothing better than the feel and smell of a book and its pages. It is for this reason, by the way, that I will continue to resist those horrible little electronic ebook readers for as long as I can (or until they stop publishing the real thing). Advancements in technology is great but there are some things that should be left alone, and one of those are books!

Anyway, I digress. The purpose of this blog is to talk about a book I am currently reading called Rework, by Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson. As I said earlier, I stay away from the business-type books. I read Malcolm Gladwell's books because everyone said I should and I yawned, not quite understanding why the world goes gaga over things that really are common sense. But I guess the issue is that often someone needs to point those out to us. Back to Rework. This is one of the best non-fictional books I have ever read. I think it speaks to me because it is so simple and because I identify with so many aspects of it. In fact, I recognise many of my own behaviours and working traits in this book and quite frankly, that makes me proud because this is one book that really makes sense to me. Its all about business today and how to get ahead but not in the traditional sense of the word. It certainly doesn't prescribe to "Vision, Mission, Objectives", something I have turned my nose up at for years. 

There are some fantastic one-liners and I thought I would list them as they come up. My next few blogs will comprise these one-liners.

The real world isn't a place, it's an excuse. It's a justification for not trying. It has nothing to do with you. 

I love this, and taken out of the context of the book can mean so many things. We are so governed by the "real-world" today. I watch the news in amazement most nights, especially at America who claims to be the land of the free yet has become so unbelievably prescriptive and judgmental. (and yes, I realise that in that statement lies my very own judgement but then this is my blog and I can say what I like :-)) You can't take a picture of your kid in the bath because some idiot at Walmart who develops the pics will report you for child abuse, you cant read an old story-tale about Noddy and Big Ears because they have an inappropriate homosexual infatuation with eachother and referring to the Gollywog is racist. There is something wrong with everything, you can't eat this, you can't use that, you shouldn't go here, you should never do that. How did our parents and theirs before them function without all the sensory and information-sharing overload. It's a wonder we even exist. The real world seems to me to becoming less and less of a free place than ever before. It's easier to just go with the pack these days than to be someone different.  It's sad to think that if we continually believe that we should do and say as they do in the real world, we may all just become exactly like eachother.

MMXI

Welcome to 2011, a common year in the Gregorian calender according to Wikipedia, and if we didn't know already; the current year. Wiki further explains that it is the 2011th year of the Common Era or the Anno Domini designation. This is also the eleventh year of the third millennium and of the 21st century and the second of the 2010s decade. The Jews (5771; oy vey the agony), the Mayans (didn't have enough space on the wheel to go past 2012), the Chinese (XinMao - Rabbit Stew) and a host of other believers might not agree. For me, it's just another day.

2010 was a hard year for me, but a good one. Friendships ended, began, strengthened. Issues cropped up, were resolved, lead to a change in plans. Through everything, we kept a roof over our head and food on the table. We saw 2011 in with good friends, champagne and sushi, the best dance music (real house), and my 7th opportunity to say "Happy New Year" to Keith, Dexter, Troy and Jessie - my world.

When I was in school, I remember my English teacher having us answer a set of questions and seal them in an envelope. He gave them back to us a year later to compare our predictions to reality. For many years I continued the tradition, sealing my predictions in an envelope (and later a password protected document on my hard drive), and opening them on Dec 31st each year. I haven't done that in a while. 

I don't do resolutions. It's just another day. But I do have hopes for the coming months. If you do believe in the stars and new beginnings, in the numbers and the Universe then I hope that the new year, albeit it a Common one, continues to allow us all the experiences we need, deserve, sometimes don't want but are all necessary to remind us that we are free and alive. To those that are not, we will remember you. 

To all, a happy MMXI

Genographically Yours

A while back I blogged about surfing the timeline and how I struggle to get my head around the fact that as I age, I take the place that people before me held and younger people take the place where I once was and like a conveyer belt life moves on.

Total mindfuck.

My friends Petra and Adam (siblings) gave me a gift of a National Geographic Project Kit. The Genographic Project is a project that uses DNA analysis techniques to map the migratory patterns of human beings over the past 60,000 years. It's pretty fascinating. According to their website, "Where do you really come from? And how did you get to where you live today? DNA studies suggest that all humans today descend from a group of African ancestors who—about 60,000 years ago—began a remarkable journey."

I dutifully swabbed my cheek (rubbing so vigorously that I made the inside of my cheek bleed) and sent off my samples. Results came in today, I've posted them for anyone that feels the interest in reading but here's the thing that totally adds to the mindfuck of the conveyer-belt-timeline; 43,654 years ago this guy (or girl) was somewhere on the earth, doing god knows what but nevertheless someone that happened to be an ancestor of mine. His (or her) actions lead to me being here. The same is said of another he or she 12,530 years ago. I know for sure that approximately 36 and a half years ago one Joan Susan Reiter and Joss Reiter caused my existence. Seriously, it's all just too much to think about.

RESULTS

Your Y-chromosome results identify you as a member of haplogroup J2 (M172).

The genetic markers that define your ancestral history reach back roughly 60,000 years to the first common marker of all non-African men, M168, and follow your lineage to present day, ending with M172, the defining marker of haplogroup J2.

If you look at the map highlighting your ancestors' route, you will see that members of haplogroup J2 carry the following Y-chromosome markers:

M168 > P143 > M89 > L15 > P123 > M304 > M172

(Less is known about some markers than others. What is known about your journey is reflected below.)

Today, descendants of this line appear in the highest frequencies in the Middle East, North Africa, and Ethiopia, and at a much lower frequency in Europe, where it is observed exclusively in the Mediterranean area. Approximately 20 percent of the males in southern Italy carry the marker, along with ten percent of men in southern Spain.

What's a haplogroup, and why do geneticists concentrate on the Y-chromosome in their search for markers? For that matter, what's a marker?

Each of us carries DNA that is a combination of genes passed from both our mother and father, giving us traits that range from eye color and height to athleticism and disease susceptibility. One exception is the Y-chromosome, which is passed directly from father to son, unchanged, from generation to generation.

Unchanged, that is unless a mutation—a random, naturally occurring, usually harmless change—occurs. The mutation, known as a marker, acts as a beacon; it can be mapped through generations because it will be passed down from the man in whom it occurred to his sons, their sons, and every male in his family for thousands of years.

In some instances there may be more than one mutational event that defines a particular branch on the tree. What this means is that any of these markers can be used to determine your particular haplogroup, since every individual who has one of these markers also has the others.

When geneticists identify such a marker, they try to figure out when it first occurred, and in which geographic region of the world. Each marker is essentially the beginning of a new lineage on the family tree of the human race. Tracking the lineages provides a picture of how small tribes of modern humans in Africa tens of thousands of years ago diversified and spread to populate the world.

A haplogroup is defined by a series of markers that are shared by other men who carry the same random mutations. The markers trace the path your ancestors took as they moved out of Africa. It's difficult to know how many men worldwide belong to any particular haplogroup, or even how many haplogroups there are, because scientists simply don't have enough data yet.

One of the goals of the five-year Genographic Project is to build a large enough database of anthropological genetic data to answer some of these questions. To achieve this, project team members are traveling to all corners of the world to collect more than 100,000 DNA samples from indigenous populations. In addition, we encourage you to contribute your anonymous results to the project database, helping our geneticists reveal more of the answers to our ancient past.

Keep checking these pages; as more information is received, more may be learned about your own genetic history.

Your Ancestral Journey: What We Know Now

M168: Your Earliest Ancestor

Fast Facts

Time of Emergence: Roughly 50,000 years ago

Place of Origin: Africa

Climate: Temporary retreat of Ice Age; Africa moves from drought to warmer temperatures and moister conditions

Estimated Number of Homo sapiens: Approximately 10,000

Tools and Skills: Stone tools; earliest evidence of art and advanced conceptual skills

Skeletal and archaeological evidence suggest that anatomically modern humans evolved in Africa around 200,000 years ago, and began moving out of Africa to colonize the rest of the world around 60,000 years ago.

The man who gave rise to the first genetic marker in your lineage probably lived in northeast Africa in the region of the Rift Valley, perhaps in present-day Ethiopia, Kenya, or Tanzania, some 31,000 to 79,000 years ago. Scientists put the most likely date for when he lived at around 50,000 years ago. His descendants became the only lineage to survive outside of Africa, making him the common ancestor of every non-African man living today.

But why would man have first ventured out of the familiar African hunting grounds and into unexplored lands? It is likely that a fluctuation in climate may have provided the impetus for your ancestors' exodus out of Africa.

The African ice age was characterized by drought rather than by cold. It was around 50,000 years ago that the ice sheets of northern Europe began to melt, introducing a period of warmer temperatures and moister climate in Africa. Parts of the inhospitable Sahara briefly became habitable. As the drought-ridden desert changed to a savanna, the animals hunted by your ancestors expanded their range and began moving through the newly emerging green corridor of grasslands. Your nomadic ancestors followed the good weather and the animals they hunted, although the exact route they followed remains to be determined.

In addition to a favorable change in climate, around this same time there was a great leap forward in modern humans' intellectual capacity. Many scientists believe that the emergence of language gave us a huge advantage over other early human species. Improved tools and weapons, the ability to plan ahead and cooperate with one another, and an increased capacity to exploit resources in ways we hadn't been able to earlier, all allowed modern humans to rapidly migrate to new territories, exploit new resources, and replace other hominids.

M89: Moving Through the Middle East

Fast Facts

Time of Emergence: 45,000 years ago

Place: Northern Africa or the Middle East

Climate: Middle East: Semi-arid grass plains

Estimated Number of Homo sapiens: Tens of thousands

Tools and Skills: Stone, ivory, wood tools

The next male ancestor in your ancestral lineage is the man who gave rise to M89, a marker found in 90 to 95 percent of all non-Africans. This man was born around 45,000 years ago in northern Africa or the Middle East.

The first people to leave Africa likely followed a coastal route that eventually ended in Australia. Your ancestors followed the expanding grasslands and plentiful game to the Middle East and beyond, and were part of the second great wave of migration out of Africa.

Beginning about 40,000 years ago, the climate shifted once again and became colder and more arid. Drought hit Africa and the grasslands reverted to desert, and for the next 20,000 years, the Saharan Gateway was effectively closed. With the desert impassable, your ancestors had two options: remain in the Middle East, or move on. Retreat back to the home continent was not an option.

While many of the descendants of M89 remained in the Middle East, others continued to follow the great herds of buffalo, antelope, woolly mammoths, and other game through what is now modern-day Iran to the vast steppes of Central Asia.

These semi-arid grass-covered plains formed an ancient "superhighway" stretching from eastern France to Korea. Your ancestors, having migrated north out of Africa into the Middle East, then traveled both east and west along this Central Asian superhighway. A smaller group continued moving north from the Middle East to Anatolia and the Balkans, trading familiar grasslands for forests and high country.

M304: The Spread of Agriculture

Fast Facts

Time of Emergence:15,000 to 10,000 years ago

Place of origin: Fertile Crescent

Climate: Ice Age ending

Estimated Number of Homo sapiens: Millions

Language: Unknown—earliest evidence of modern language families

Tools and Skills: Neolithic Revolution

The patriarch of M304 was a descendant of the M89 Middle Eastern Clan. He was born between 15,000 to 10,000 years ago in the Fertile Crescent, a region that extends from the Mediterranean Sea to the Persian Gulf where the Euphrates and Tigris rivers form an extremely rich floodplain. Today the region includes all or part of Israel, the West Bank, Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq.

The descendants of this man played a crucial role in modern human development. They pioneered the first Neolithic Revolution, the point at which humans changed from nomadic hunter-gatherers to settled agriculturists. The end of the last ice age around 10,000 years ago, and the subsequent shift in climate to one more conducive to plant production, probably helped spur the discovery of how to grow food.

Control over their food supply marks a major turning point for the human species: the beginning of civilization. Occupying a single territory required more complex social organization, moving from the kinship ties of a small tribe to the more elaborate relations of a larger community. It spurred trade, writing, and calendars, and pioneered the rise of modern sedentary communities and cities.

The M304 marker appears at its highest frequencies in the Middle East, North Africa, and Ethiopia. In Europe, it is seen only in the Mediterranean region.

M172: Toward the Mediterranean

Fast Facts

Time of Emergence: 10,000 years ago

Place of Origin: Fertile Crescent

Climate: Ice Age ending

Estimated Number of Homo sapiens: A few million

Language: Unknown

Tools and Skills: Neolithic

Your ancestors left a physical footprint that matches their genetic journey. Artifacts from ancient towns such as Jericho, also known as Tell el-Sultan, a site close to present day Jerusalem, provide evidence of permanent human settlements to around 8500 B.C. The sites also suggest the transition from hunter-gatherer to settled life occurred relatively suddenly.

The M172 marker defines a major subset of M304, which arose from the M89 lineage. It is found today in North Africa, the Middle East, and southern Europe. In southern Italy it occurs at frequencies of 20 percent, and in southern Spain, 10 percent of the population carries this marker. Both M304 and its subgroup M172 are found at a combined frequency of around 30 percent amongst Jewish individuals.

The early farming successes of these lineages spawned population booms and encouraged migration throughout much of the Mediterranean world.

This is where your genetic trail, as we know it today ends. However, be sure to revisit these pages. As additional data are collected and analyzed, more will be learned about your place in the history of the men and women who first populated the Earth. We will be updating these stories throughout the life of the project.

When Grampa Killed Grandma

It's been a while since I blogged and I keep on thinking I should be writing more often because the intention of this blog was to keep a record of my life since leaving big bad South Africa but then I think that there is nothing that interesting to say. Life has become pretty routine. We are fast approaching our 2 year anniversary in Toronto and it sometimes feels like we have been here forever. I desperately miss my friends and family but there are days now when I am sitting around a table eating dinner with friends, drinking copious amounts of wine and I suddenly stop and think to myself "wow.....these are my friends too". We've even made some enemies, well I couldn't quite call them that, but I would say that friendships have ended. Now that's when you know you are settled in!

It's summer in Toronto and I never thought I would experience this kind of heat in Canada. My friend Jen warned me about this before I even arrived and I thought to myself that it cant be hotter than the Highveld heat in South Africa. Boy was I mistaken, temperatures this past week have hit the 40s (Celsius) with the humidity. It's unbearable, it feels tropical and the only place I want to be is in a horizontal position next to a pool. We have resisted putting on the central air but even the poor dogs weren't coping so now we are satisfactorily cooled indoors. Keith is loving it, spending his time on the lake in the evenings sailing with his friend Dom and I venture out every now and then for a schvitz!

We have been following the FIFA World Cup back in South Africa and I am very proud to see what a positive impact has been made by the country. We are proudly flying the South African flag outside our house.

Of course life in Lawrence's house isn't much fun if there isn't any drama so here is today's story. As most of you know Keith likes to fix up houses and has been doing this for a number of years. This has meant us moving at least every 18 months or so and I was under no illusion that what happened in South Africa, would happen in Canada. We'd been living here for just over 18 months and Keith was getting bored so it became time to sell and move on. I cant say I was truly happy about this as I really love living on this street where we have made the majority of our friends. We listed the house in the winter but didn't get any offers so we took it off the market. At the time we had bought something else that was conditional on the sale of our house and naturally that fell through. I wasn't too unhappy about the whole situation. We listed the house again in the Spring and this time not only did it sell within 10 days, it sold for the asking price which is pretty good for these times. We then went into a flat panic to find something else because we only had 60 days before closing. Keith must have looked at about 30 properties and nothing caught our eye. We thought this would be an opportunity to try out a new neighborhood but each time kept coming back to Cabbagetown where we are settled and happy to the point that we are on a first name basis with Mark the Butcher, Domingo the Green Grocer and even Andy, the Postman! We put in an offer here, another one there, got rejected, went back and so it went but no exciting sales. Finally a house came on the market very close to where we live and we grabbed it. We thought all was said and done and Keith immediately got online and started ordering chandeliers and other necessities for the new house. And then it all fell apart......

We got a call about three weeks ago that the purchaser of our house had lost his job (he was fired) and now informed us that he would not be buying our house anymore and we could return his deposit to x address. We politely informed him that we had a firm and binding Agreement and that we would be doing no such thing. Boy, did the fun then start. I wish I could publish some of the emails he has sent that have gone from begging and pleading, to vicious, to offensive to bordering on the insane. Alas, these are possibly soon to be used in litigation and can't compromise us winning vast amounts of money in damages because if he doesn't buy our house, we don't buy the one we purchased and if we sue him, the person we bought from sues us. Could it be any messier? I won't say much more except for the fact that we are due to move in a week and are nowhere near a resolution (at the time of writing this), blood pressures are high, anxiety is causing major strain and this is not something I would wish on anyone. It happens rarely, and it happened to happen to us! It sucks.

My mother is up to her usual tricks which means that she is costing me money once again and I complained to a friend today over coffee about the constant drama. I have a long-time friend who has all his/her siblings alive and well, as well as parents, a grandparent or two, children, jobs, a house, cars....and rarely seems to ever suffer any drama. For just a moment, I wouldn't mind a little of that. My friend responded that it aint always so peachy on the inside and went on to relate a story of a family much like that, with little drama or problems and the seemingly perfect life. This was until Grandpa murdered Grandma, went to jail and proceeded to set himself alight at Grandma's grave when he was paroled. I know there is more to this story, and I know it is tragic but I burst into laughter in the middle of Starbucks. I guess I'll keep my life just as it is. If my mother murders anyone at Sandringham Gardens Ill be sure to let you know.

I think that's it for now. I'll try be better at updating more often.

Adios

Poetry

I was looking through some old files for a document that I need and came across an old worn book with the words "PRIVATE" scratched into the cover. When I was a teenager I was a huge Jim Morrison fan, I read all his books and poetry, listened to his music, had posters of him all over the place and wore tight tee-shirts and jeans just like him. At some point I decided that I would be a poet just like him too. And inside the tattered old book is my poetry. It's all totally entertaining, the teenager trying to come up with something original out of the depths of despair of being a teenager (yes, most of my poetry was quite morbid and full of self-pity!). And not very good. But hey, here's some of it....

Dad
Memories of days long past
Begin to fade.
The mental picture crumbled
long before.

Yearning for a father stronger grow
Beneath the
Anger
And frustration.

Outward strong I seem to be,
Yet inside flow tears of sorrow
For someone I can't
Remember.


In God We Trust?
Events:
Experienced to learn from.
(The details become clearer much later)
But during is when beliefs falter
And then need be reassured.

In times of need for guiding hands,
One looks for something meaningful
In a God that we all trust.
(or do we?)

Varsity Wall
The echoes fill the building,
They bounce off concrete walls,
And amid the smells of morning feast,
The incessant noise of hurrying feet,
Education calls.

I sit alone yet part of them,
A group of people who,
(Some would rather be elsewhere)
Share a common goal.

And yet someday,
When degrees are held,
And roads diverged,
Most cherished friendships (from these echos)
Shall linger still.


And this one is my favorite because I know exactly who I wrote it for. I hope she reads my blog 'cos she'd be tickled pink (and by the way, she is still married to "someone else" today).

Why is it?
Why is it that I always seem to lose,
To someone else?
Why is it that she doesn't notice me,
But someone else?
Why is it that I love her so and she loves,
Someone else?
Why is it, can you answer me,
Why is it?
I know you love her....
But her not me,
Just let me finish please.
I know you love her endlessly,
But she loves someone else.
Someone else.
Oh, how I hate him so,
You mustn't fight,
You cannot win,
Just let her love him.
I can't, I love...
But she not you,
She loves someone else.

Living in crime-infested Toronto

I left South Africa exactly 18 months ago in search of a new life and with the hopes of escaping the horrific crime that Johannesburg had become subject to. To date, life in Toronto has been quiet, safe and free of the stories that I used to hear on an almost daily basis back home. Until this week…

Keith and I were watching the news on Tuesday evening when the headlines came on and we both leaned forward in our seats, horrified at what was taking the lead in that night’s news.

The following was copied later off of a Star newspaper headline:

“Father retrieves stolen stroller in Craigslist sting
Pricey prams are a hot commodity, as Toronto dad learns just hours after a theft”

The basic story reported that a stroller (pram) had been stolen from the front porch of this family’s home at about 1am. The parents had heard a noise and after finding out that the pram was gone, dad quickly logged onto the Internet and began to scour Craigslist for clues. For those that don’t know, Craigslist is an online resource where you can find pretty much anything and is widely used in North America. Lo and behold, at approximately 3am, someone posted a pram for sale, one that sounded oddly familiar to this dad. To cut a long story short, he made plans to meet the seller and ended up retrieving the stolen pram. The Star newspaper article referenced above further went on to say that “There aren’t solid numbers on stroller theft in Toronto, but pram pillaging is enough of a problem that an alert was issued last October in 11 Division, which encompasses High Park and the Junction. After a rash of thefts and two arrests, police suggested that strollers be kept inside or locked up”.

God bless Toronto. May the crimes committed always be opportunistic and for financial gain, without harm to those affected. May the news headlines continue to entertain those that have seen much worse.

P.S. Just in. A horse got stuck in some river and an anonymous donor paid for a helicopter to rescue it and fly it back to safety. I wonder if they will repeat it on the 11pm news later tonight?

Where have you been?

I haven’t blogged in a while. Every time I think about updating my blog I realize that I don’t really have anything earth shattering to say. I guess that must mean that we’ve settled into a happy, routine life. I follow a few blogs, one of them nauseatingly irritating due to an exceptional high level of daily “pat me on the back’s” and that’s the last thing that I would want to do. Who cares what I do every day? Just because blogging is the in thing, doesn’t mean that everyone wants to read about you (or me). Anyway, here’s an update on the last few months (just in case you were wondering)…

I last wrote in October so I’ll try and think about interesting and poignant things that have happened since. I turned 36 in November. It’s actually a nice number and I don’t mind at all being on the closer side to 40; my 30s have been tough years. At some point I thought that I may be having an almost-mid-life-crisis but quickly realised that I just hate my job that I love. Explaining that would be tedious and not something I choose to put in writing at this time.

December brought the long-expected visit of Cherise and Simon and a very well deserved break from the love that I hate but love. Work over the preceding months had been more stressful than ever before mostly due to a nasty client and incredibly bad preparation in a project that ended up becoming my problem. I loved having Cherise and Simon see our life, meet our friends and just enjoyed being together. I loved waking them up in the mornings. I loved seeing them lounging around. We did little more than relax, eat and catch up. Knowing that Toronto would never be their first destination of choice I was so grateful that we were reason enough to spend the money and time.

We took our own holiday shortly after Cherise and Simon went home to South Africa. We travelled to Mexico and spend a fantastic week or so in Playa Del Carmen. It was just what we needed, sun, the pool and a constant flow of alcohol. Did I mention that we were drunk before we even reached the hotel and remained that way for the entire duration of the trip?

Our second winter in Toronto has been a breeze (or maybe a slight chill). We barely had any snow until February and it all seems to be over already. I must be honest; I think I would have preferred a little more snow. It’s pretty and makes winter “feel like winter”. But I’m ok with the fact that its over. Keith has bought himself a 32-foot sailboat and I’m looking forward to being ferried privately to and from the island.  

As I write this I am looking at a snoring Dexter with a bruised leg and slice from knee to ankle. Poor guy tore his cruciate ligament in his right leg two years ago and had major surgery to correct it just before we emigrated. Surgery involved removing the damaged ligaments, breaking the leg (or rather cutting through the bone) and attaching a steel plate and 8 screws to realign his two leg bones (femur and tibia).  The recovery was slow and long, involving 4 months of restricted activity and rehab. Those months of relying on the good leg resulted in the other cruciate tearing a few months ago. We tried conservative treatment of rest and anti-inflammatories because I didn’t want to put him through another surgery but it was inevitable. He had his $4000 (things really are so much more expensive here) surgery last Friday and so far is doing really well. He really is a trooper, seems to be relatively pain-free and resolved to the fact that he will need to heal for a while. Our house isn’t as contusive to this kind of rehab as was our house in Johannesburg because of all the stairs, which means that I have to carry him up and down. But in a few months I know he will be jumping around as if nothing had ever happened.

Daniel came to visit last weekend. What a treat and I was so grateful that he would happily hop on a plane arriving Friday night and leaving Sunday just to come and spend some time with me in between his business in the US. Daniel and I have always travelled well together, we’ve done Sydney, London and other fun things (even a Hindu wedding in Durban where I had to put out so that we had a place to sleep) and rarely tire of each other. We walked around Toronto, we ate and went to gym and we caught up.

Im sure that much more has happened but unless I blog daily, Ive already forgotten! If I remember anything I'll be sure to update you. My 14 registered blog readers are also all Facebook friends so chances are you already know it all!

I think it’s time to wrap things up. I’ll end with good news. We finally became permanent residents last week. While in the grand scheme of things it was relatively quick and painless, it felt long and painful for us. We are one final step towards Canadian citizenship and that feels really cool.

Kitty

Every time I look at you the world just melts away
All my troubles all my fears dissolve in your affections
You've seen me at my weakest but you take me as I am
And when I fall you offer me a softer place to land

You stay the course you hold the line you keep it all together
You're the one true thing I know I can believe in
You're all the things that I desire, you save me, you complete me
You're the one true thing I know I can believe

I get mad so easy but you give me room to breathe
No matter what I say or do 'cause you're to good to fight about it
Even when I have to push just to see how far you'll go
You wont stoop down to battle but you never turn to go

Your love is just the antidote when nothing else will cure me
There are times I cant decide when I cant tell up from down
You make me feel less crazy when otherwise I'd drown
But you pick me up and brush me off and tell me I'm OK
Sometimes thats just what we need to get us through the day

Sarah McLachlan - Push

Cherise

I know that you do it because you don't have the emotional attachment that I do. I know it's easier that way. But it doesn't mean that it's easy.

Thank you for always taking her calls.
Thank you for responding to her SMS's.
Thank you for buying groceries and supplies.
Thank you for buying her airtime.
Thank you for talking to Lynette, and Moshe, and the doctors.
Thank you for paying the bills.
Thank you for sorting out Medihelp and the Pharmacy.
Thank you for listening.
Thank you for visiting.
Thank for you storing everything in your garage.
Thank you for delivering and unpacking.
Thank you for your spreadsheet.
Thank you Simon.

Thank you for taking care of my mom. I can't wait for you to come play.

One Year On

I arrived in Toronto one year ago today. I remember speaking to people that had emigrated and they warned me that it would not easy. I was told to be patient, that my sense of values and morals in the South African context would take time to change and adapt to a more liberal Canadian one, that it could take up to three or four years for me to settle down and feel at home. How wrong they were!

I have always wanted to live in Canada. Something drew me here. Every time I came to visit I felt like this was home, not South Africa. I felt like I belonged here. My friends got tired of me saying that I was going to live in Canada. Nobody believed that I would actually do it. But I did, and boy does it feel good.

September was a rush and it felt like any other business trip. Thank god for Lisa who gave me her apartment in the very plush Yorkville. I arrived in style. A week later I was off to Russia and India on business. Before I left a dog bit me.

Keith and the dogs arrived in October and so did the first snow. The dogs loved it. We spent the next few weeks searching for a home and it was a crazy time. At first we were so disappointed in what we could afford but then we started seeing places that we liked and so the negotiations began. After looking at 64 houses, and losing two we finally had an offer accepted on Ontario Street in Cabbagetown. Little did we know how much that decision would affect our lives.

We moved in November and it was so good to have all our things from South Africa in their rightful place in our home. It gave us the stability we needed. We felt at home. We met our neighbours that day and within days they invited us to spend Christmas with them.

Doreen came to visit in December and we spent New Years together. I got my drivers license even though it was snowing like crazy that day. The three-month reality that I had been warned about hit and I realized that I was not in South Africa anymore and I missed my friends. I started to romanticize South Africa yet I knew that I didn’t want to go back. I was not in any way unhappy; I was lonely. Of course I had Keith and the dogs, but I am a social guy and I need people around me. Working from home wasn’t helping.

In January I flew to New York to surprise my niece and I reconnected with an old friend from South Africa. We carried on settling into our home and life, and Keith started renovating our house. We started meeting the people on the street and started going out. We were slowly making friends.

February brought heartbreak with news of the death of my sister. Within hours of hearing I was on a plane back to South Africa. My friends rallied around me and the week spent in Johannesburg is a blur. I didn’t have to lift a finger and for that I am eternally grateful. The love and friendship I experienced from people all over the world made me realize how lucky I am. Being in Johannesburg was awful and I couldn’t wait to come home.

March brought the promise of Spring but the cold lingered. It was a long month yet the winter had not been that bad. We had actually enjoyed it.

April was STILL cold! I started running.

Neil and Olga arrived in May. What a treat to have them come and spend time with us. Neil shopped, and shopped, and then shopped a little more. He also did some shopping. We explored, we ate, and we rode our bikes. Neil shopped.

June and July were beautiful months; warm days and nights that seemed to go on forever. We started sitting out on the front porch in the afternoons drinking wine and eating cheese and neighbours would join us. It became a regular thing and people would stop and talk to us and some even asked what they had to do to join the club. Would it be the same had we have bought on another street? I visited Germany and Holland. I fell in love with Amsterdam. I visited Merle, Sid and the twins in Vancouver.

We went back to South Africa in August. This time it was partly for work and partly for fun. We surprised our friends and family and it was so wonderful being with them. It was like we never left; yet it didn’t feel like home anymore. There is no doubt that we will never go back. I saw Nicki in San Francisco. It was so good to connect.

It’s September now. It gets dark earlier and there is a chill in the morning air. We have an amazing circle of friends here; some that feel like we have known them forever. I marvel at the thought that if we had never come here, we would never have met them. And that would just be tragic.

We are happy. We are content. Keith and my relationship has only strengthened. We just celebrated 5 years together. We are free and safe. We walk our dogs through the neighbourhood and in the parks. We ride bikes and take the subway.

I just read this to Keith. He told me to wrap it up. Im done.

Dear Baruch

You will probably never read this but that’s ok because while it’s directed at you, it’s not for you. You changed your Facebook status from ‘married’ to ‘single’ barely hours after she died so I cant expect you to ‘get it’. This letter is for me; it’s for my sister.

I don’t doubt for a second that you loved her. I am grateful that she found love, marriage and happiness with you because many people rejected her for being so fat. That’s the truth. Your relationship was certainly passionate; I remember hearing you screaming at each other when you would fight and I remember you crying when she was in hospital. You lead a simple life together, you were never able to give her everything she wanted, and often your lack of ambition or ability to sustain your employment frustrated her but she loved you. I wish you had supported her more in her attempts to control her health. Suddenly you are exercising and eating well, why didn’t you do it when she was trying so hard?

I am not angry with you. I am not angry that you lied and I am not angry that I had to find out about your engagement via Facebook. Your actions don’t surprise me but they disappoint me yet I realize that it is my own expectation that you have failed and who am I to place those expectations on you? There is no point in you mourning forever, my mother is a prime example of what a mess that can be and I have no right to stand in your way of a future, a wife and children. I wonder if you have ever thought how things would be if the circumstances were reversed? How would your family feel if it were you that died and if my sister got engaged 5 months after your death? Would your friends congratulate her? Would it matter if she were planning a wedding when your grave lay bare without even a tombstone? It matters to me.

Do you ever think that if you had died, you would have left her penniless? Does your fiance know that I furnished your home; does she know where all the money you have now, more than you ever had before, came from? Did that money buy her engagement ring? Do your parents remember that they refused to help you when you were stranded in Israel? I brought you home, I put a roof over your head for almost 4 years, and I paid off your car. I did it willingly; I did it for my sister who I loved more than you will ever know. I did it because I had the means. I would do it again. Will you remember?

As I write this, and read through it, and edit it, I realize how little it matters. It’s been eating me up inside but it really doesn’t matter, does it? What matters is that she is gone; some say she is in a better place, others say it was her time. I don’t know. What I know is that everything I have written above doesn’t really matter.

I miss her every day.

I dream about her every night. There is an empty hole inside me that doesn’t want to go away and I’m not sure it ever will. It goes wherever I go. I would give anything to have her back as selfish as that may be. I hope that she is in a better place. I hope that death is not the end. I hope she hears me when I talk to her. I hope she feels me when I cry. There was nothing left unsaid, but there is still so much I have to say.

I miss her every day.

Contractually Yours

I think that you need to have faith in order to question it, so if I am questioning it, then I must have faith.

I grew up in a traditionally orthodox Jewish home. In my late teens I became quite religious, to the point that some of my family joked that I was well on my way to becoming a Rabbi. Little did they know what I was getting up to late at night, and that becoming a Rabbi was never an option. The religious phase came and went, but at least I can say that I gave it a try. If asked, I would say that I prefer cheese with my burger and that’s why I strayed.

In my mid twenties I found myself talking to an amazing therapist who taught me about self-exploration and different views on the world. In between talking about my childhood, my father and mother and my various “issues”, we discussed Buddhism, Taoism, Judaism, Christianity, Spirituality, Metaphysics and I read books, lots of them. The advise given to me was to take all the bits of the things that I had read that made sense to me, to put them together and create my own belief.

I soon met an amazing woman named Fran and together with my friend Cherise and two others we went on an exploration that amazed and thrilled me. Our weekly meetings consisted of all things unknown, we explored the Merkabah, Light Work, Channeling, Tarot, I studied Wicca, we meditated, we met in dark places, we spoke to Egyptologists, we ate very garlicky chicken, we made spells and bought crystals and we formed opinions on what we believed. We played for just over two years.

And so I created my own version of my faith.

I have always said that there has to be more to life than what we experience on a day-to-day basis, because if there isn’t, then I struggle to see the point and I would rather bow out gracefully right now than endure the mundane activities of most days. So for me, there has to be something that exists outside of what we know. And that something belongs in a spiritual realm. It must be pretty good on the other side, because no one has come back to complain.

I believe in too many things to write it all down here but the most important is that I believe in sacred contracts and in the fact that things are exactly the way they are meant to be. This does not mean that we don’t have free choice; in fact it is because of free choice that I don’t truly believe in religion anymore because why offer free choice and then punish you for the choices you make. But that is a discussion for another time and place.

I believe that we come into this world having pre-determined certain experiences and relationships. I say certain, because I also believe that some happen by chance or because of someone else’s contract. Our souls are far greater than we could ever imagine or understand, we exist on multiple planes and in multiple dimensions at the same time; in fact the past, the present and the future are all happening right now.

For example, I believe that the part of my soul that exists in this life entered into an agreement with the part of my father’s soul that existed in this life to have the experience that it did. That’s why him dying the way he did, at the time that he did, is ok. I believe that I similarly have contracts with each and every person that I feel a connection with, because somewhere there is a lesson for one of us. Sometimes the lesson is for me, sometimes I’m just a conduit and sometimes it teaches us both.

But despite the fact that this feels right for me I don’t always believe, and sometimes I question. I miss my sister more than any words can describe. I don’t feel that I can get past the fact that she is gone and I think about her every day. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night because she haunts my mind so vividly. It’s not that I’ve suddenly realized how important she was to me and it’s not that I am having regrets about things not said or done. It is all about the fact that there is a humongous void in my life that I feel every day, the possibility that she is actually dead (the harshest way to describe it) is one that I struggle to accept and come to terms with. But, if I truly do believe in what I say I do, then I have to accept that this was a sacred contract that came to it’s rightful end at a time chosen by either me, my sister or both of us, in a time and place far removed from this world. I have to accept that whilst I may not understand it now, that in time I will come to understand or I will understand it when I leave this life, before I make my contracts for the next.

The part of me that still believes, is the part that helps me go on, laugh, enjoy, love and live despite that horrible emptiness, loss and sadness.
The other part of me questions.

I guess that’s what it’s really all about.

The more we ask, the more we are forced to evaluate our existence, make decisions, form opinions and hopefully realize how lucky we truly are and live the opportunities we have to the fullest.

Sunday, bloody Sunday (or not quite)

Sunday started off as most days do, with some cleaning.

We then got our bikes and joined Lou and Deb for a ride around the city, stopping off at the Danforth for brunch and making our way home through the beautiful Rosedale suburb.

We walked the dogs. After about an hour we slowly made our way home.

And ended off the day with cheese and wine on the front porch.

Being neighbourly (sp!)

Keith is on a course this week and anyone who knows me, knows that the way to my heart is directly through my stomach (Stephan - NO FAT COMMENTS! Have a bit of dust). This means that I get a cooked meal every night and on nights that I dont, I buy it ready made. Cooking has never been something I enjoyed nor was I ever good at it. Sure, I can make something; but usually only palatable to me. I have this need to do everything well, I am extremely hard on myself so when I have tried to cook it has always been elaborate and complicated dishes that rarely turn out as Jamie (Oliver) would have wanted. I realised that simple is better. Anyway, there is a great little deli/caterer down the street so on Monday Keith got lamb shank and on Tuesday he got lamb curry and on Wednesday he announced that I had better cook something! So on Wednesday I bought a raw chicken, I really did, and I googled "roast chicken" and watched a YouTube video on how to truss and roast it and I did, I really did. I went for my daily run and when I got back Keith was sitting on the steps of the front porch with our neighbour having a glass of wine and a "kuier". I joined them, and so did our friends two doors down and two hours later we were still chatting and drinking and watching the people and the dogs walk by. Long story short - we ended up sharing and thoroughly enjoying my roast chicken (secret secret recipe) and roast potatoes. And a bottle of white, and two bottles of red and half a bottle of grapa. I have never seen Keith that drunk before, it was very cute.

Today I decided to try my hand at my culenary skills again, this time it was home made fish burgers and fries. Keith got home at 6 and two hours later there were 9 people sitting on the front steps of our house drinking wine, playing with Petra's 11 week old Pug, chatting to people and dogs walking past and eating fish burgers and fries.

I've noticed when I go for my run, or when we walk the dogs that it is pretty commonplace in Cabbagetown for people to sit out on their front porch in the evenings, when the sun is out till 9pm.

It still amazes me and I hope that I never take this for granted.

14 double vodkas drunk

I was supposed to go to a work dinner tonight. It's a monthly meeting and I actually sit on the executive committee. So much for that. I met a new friend for drinks after work at a local watering hole on Yonge and Bloor and 14 double vodkas later I had missed the monthly CRAC meeting. Come on, it's called CRAC for god's sake (Clinical Research Association of Canada).

I had a great time, we drank copious amounts of alcohol and exhanged stories about our lives and our partners. At this point I must pay my sincere thanks to Rolly G without whom I would not have this new drinking buddy and friend. You see David, I remembered, despite my state of inebriation. And I met Zara, and she barked at me.

On the way home I was fortunate enough to be on the same streetcar as Mr Crazy who was telling a story, and balancing on the balance beam. The driver asked him to please sit down and behave like the rest of the passengers but he needed to balance on his balance beam whilst he was telling his story.

It is for these reasons, that I am so in love with the city that I inhabit.

I got home and devoured the rest of the roast chicken in the fridge. Drunk sms'd a few friends in South Africa and it is now, time, for bed.

G'night

Anger, or is it?

Sometimes I feel consumed with anger. At the same time I am filled with contentment. It's a true dichotomy and one that is difficult to explain. When I tell people that I am angry, or miserable they immediately think that I hate being in Canada. I don't. I love it here and that's where the contentment is.

I have always believed that my mother does not take responsibility for her life. Granted, her life has not been easy but no harder than most people I know. No harder than mine. I've blogged before about her "turning a negative into a positive" but those who know her, know that she doesnt believe this to be true. My mother's true belief is "I am a result of circumstance". She claims that it is not her fault that her husband died, that her mother and father died, that her child was morbidly and fataly obese, that she gets and got depressed, that she is always ill, that she has headaches, that she had a brain AVM, that she hasn't been able to work for 12 years (even though she really wishes she could - ja right). It was all circumstance. Yes, circumstances occur and shape our lives. But we also have a responsibility to deal with those circumstances and I have always believed that the way in which we do that, leads to a successful control of our life or lack thereof. My mother's choice has always been to go to bed and mine has always been to get on with it. She has often said that I am cold and unemotional. I call it being practical and realistic. She believe's that she had no choice, because circumstance caused things that made her depressed that forced her to want to lie down for a few months. I believe that lying down was her choice.

Today is two months since my sister passed away and I still don't quite believe that it is real. Her dying changed my life forever in a way that I can't explain, but my choice is not to give up. I am angry though about so many things, but I won't give them credence by putting them in writing.

I am angry about other circumstances that I find myself in but I wont give those credence either. This morning I was working out at the gym and this is my me-time, when I have headphones in my ears, when I think a lot and focus on working out. I thought about all the people that make me angry, and all the circumstances that make me angry and I wondered if my anger is rightly directed or not. Is it circumstance making me angry or am I angry at myself? Am I directing my emotions away so as to avoid taking responsibility? What can I do to change things, because I have a choice whether I like it or not.

This is the difference between me and my mother. I am angry. There are reasons for my anger. Some are caused by people and some by circunstance. But I am in control and I have choices. Just knowing that already makes me feel a little better.

Loopy-Loo

Keith and I have a name for the people that wander around talking to themselves and gesturing. We call them the loopy-loos. The fact is, that it's become a term of affection and we often wonder why it is that we see so many loopy-loos in our neighbourhood. South Africa was full of homeless people and beggers, but they weren't loopy-loos. These guys (and girls) are entertaining and include the guy talking to himself on the streetcar, and telling himself jokes, and laughing at them, the very cute guy standing at the street corner grabbing his crotch and doing karate, the military guy in the park with his pram and white bunny, the jogger that has different coloured shoes, the bag lady on the subway that walked up to people and grabbed their stuff, then offered them food. According to Deb we live in the "corridor" - the inbetween the place where they sleep and the place where they eat. That's why we see them and I wouldnt have it any other way.

At peace

We decided to take the dogs for a walk tonight after supper. It was almost 9pm and because spring is in the air there is a light breeze and the sun is just going down. We closed the door behind us and off we went. We forgot to check that the door was locked (it was). It was quiet and peaceful, there were people all over (with and without dogs) and the best part was walking on the streets past people's houses that have no burglar bars or curtains. We watched people making dinner, drinking wine, we saw them watching TV, some houses were in the dark and some had all the lights on but nobody was home. We walked through a dark alley. We weren't scared at all. We wished that our friends back in South Africa could experience this. We're at peace.

Being happy

Recently I read a blog update that someone wrote on their birthday, summing up the last year in a (pea)nutshell. I thought that I should do that (‘cos I do like to copy other people’s ideas) but then realized that I would rather do something else; something slightly happier than my recent posts. Despite the last month, that has probably been one of the hardest and saddest of my life, there is so much to be happy about. I thought I would jot down 100 things to be happy about but it turns out that it’s not that easy and rather than make up 72 arbitrary things, I would write down those that came to my mind first and post it before I changed my mind. Some of them relate to my current situation, others to things I have done in the past. So in no particular order (as they come to mind):

I am happy because:

• I have Keith. He is the best thing that ever happened to me. He radiates warmth and comfort and everybody loves him.
• I have fur children. Dexter, Jessie and Troy are a close second to Keith although sometimes I think Keith suspects that Dexter comes first. There is nothing better than the love of a dog. Nothing better at all.
• I have the most amazing friends. They are my family and there are no words to describe how important each person is to me. Maybe my next blog will be a tribute to my friends.
• There is nobody that I hate, and that is not an easy feat these days.
• I live in what I think is one of the most fantastic countries in the world. Wait, I know it is. Canada is resource-rich, has vast amounts of space and land, an incredibly liberal and tolerant attitude to people and unlike South Africa (whether you want to admit it or not), is a much safer and happier environment to live in.
• The squirrels are coming out much to Dexter’s joy.
• The birds have returned from their winter get-away.
• I have no regrets.
• I get to say the things I feel without the fear of consequence.
• I have travelled all over the world. Some of it has been for unbelievable holidays and many of them with friends. I love travelling with people. Other travels have been for work, which I would never have done had someone else not been picking up the bill!
• I have worked in Africa, in the middle of a forest, in a field, near a hut, in a hospital. I’ve seen the true beauty of countries untouched by technology and violence. I have marveled at the brilliance of some of the people I have worked with in those countries.
• I have taught.
• I have learnt.
• I’ve taken drugs and never had a bad trip, only bad comedowns.
• I have always done the work that I love, hardly ever hating the fact that I had to work.
• I’ve flown first class.
• I’ve been to the Sydney Mardi Gras, the Vancouver Mardi Gras and the MQCP parties in Cape Town.
• I’ve drunk Vodka in Russia.
• I’ve ridden a Vespa in Italy (and in Parkhurst too).
• I’ve jumped out of an airplane at 12,000m and free fell for over a minute.
• I’m a qualified Rescue Scuba Diver.
• I’ve swum with dolphins.
• I’ve dived with sharks.
• I’ve eaten spleen in a pita and I enjoyed it.
• I’ve fallen in love, and out of love. I’ve had my heart broken, and I’ve loved again.
• I’ve been betrayed.
• I’ve learnt to trust.
• I’ve betrayed.
• I’ve learnt integrity.
• I’ve been able to support my mother.
• I’ve acted in a play.
• I’ve played the piano.
• I’ve studied all the way to PhD. My mother get’s to say “My son is a doctor” (even though I’m not a real doctor).
• I’ve studied Wicca.
• I’ve studied Reiki.
• I stayed in a Bedouin tent in Israel and rode a Camel.
• I learnt to water-ski and I learnt to ski in the snow.
• I’m sure that if I thought enough (and despite what I said at the start) I could write another 100 of these, but I’m happy to quit while I’m ahead, because as much as I can think of the happy things, I can also think of the sad and this blog is not going there today!

I am happy because I am still young, I have plenty to be thankful for and I have so much still to do. I am happy to be able to experience most of what I want to.

I am happy to be able to share this with you.

Facing my own mortality

My sister passed away last week. Deep down I always knew that this would happen and I warned her about it. She was overweight and unhealthy. I tried my best to help her and for a while it worked. But I guess she was happy and didn't really want to change. Did I really have the right to impose my needs on her? I guess all I was imposing, was the wish to have her around for a little longer.

I am totally devastated. I feel empty and numb. I think about her every minute of every day. That's not to say that I didn't before. The difference is that before, when she was alive, I could send her an email or a text and she would reply in her crazy manner, with some mad rant about life and the Russians (you wouldn't understand). We were very close, we loved each other and we told each other that. I have no regrets and nothing was left unsaid. For that, I am grateful. I hope she knew how much she was loved, and how many people are mourning her loss. She has truly left a void in the world.

I don't know how to get past this. I know I will. I know it's too soon but I want the grief to go away because it doesn't feel nice. How do I accept the fact that I will never see her or speak to her again. She will always be young but will I always remember?

My family is broken. It's our destiny and it started when my father passed away. My mother is old and frail, way beyond her 62 years and I have had to put her into a home to be cared for. I always thought that my sister would look after her, like I did when she lived in Israel. But the lesson here, is that it always has been, and always will be my responsibility. I hate that I have left her behind in South Africa. Knowing that it's the right thing to do, and feeling it, are two different things.

Being back in South Africa was good for me. It proved immediately that our choice to leave for Canada was a good one. South Africa is not a healthy place to live in. The hard part, i s leaving behind the people that I love. At the moment I am torn between loving my life in Canada, and wondering if the sacrifice is truly worth it. And at the risk of being somewhat naive, I blame that entirely on a country that has forced families to split up.

I am facing my own mortality once again. I am not part of the societal norm, although that's not to say that there arent plenty of gay couples of couples that do not have children. I guess I look around, and always have, at my friends that are part of a proper family unit and feel sad for the one I didn't have. It's no excuse to run out and get (make) myself a kid but a part of me mourns the fact that I wont grow old, surrounded by children, and cousins and family. I truly am blessed to have the friends and family that I do, and this week was proof of that. I guess at a time like this, it's normal to ponder the future, with a touch of apprehension.

Aparently 144,000 people died in the world today. Somewhere, someone lost a sister. I know how that feels. I can't say goodbye. I miss you CaroLearn. I always will. Life will never be the same.

The Good, the Bad, the Abusively Ugly

Free to a home (note that it doesn't have to be a good home):
a deliquint, sad, demanding, bi-polar, uninterested, selfish, over-medicated mother. Requires little attention and a pharmacy close-by. Offered up by a son that cares more than he would like to but just can't do it anymore.

The Good
I am enjoying my life. I worked in New York City last week; Manhattan to be specific. New York is a great place to visit, but to feel like part of the city is exhilirating. I woke up and walked through Manhattan to work. I felt like I was part of the workforce. I was. I went out for lunch and I went to a meeting. I walked amongst the tourists, the locals and the yellow cabs. I loved every minute of it. The city has an energy that you cant ignore. That night I ate out with friends in Hells Kitchen. We drank cocktails and enjoyed eachothers company and then we cabbed and subway-ed home. To be (relatively) young and be able to experience New York City is amazing.

The weather is good. It's warmer than usual for February in Toronto. When we left South Africa, people asked how we would deal with the weather. When we arrived in Canada people warned us that by February we would be crying out in frustration. We're still wondering what the big deal is. In South Africa you are cold in Winter. The houses are cold, the beds are cold, the toilet seat is cold and your toes burn when they hit the hot water in the shower. You have to wear a sweater indoors and keep the heaters on. In Canada you dont feel it. I wear a tee-shirt inside all day long. I put a jacket on when I go out and if its really bad I wear a beanie and gloves. I dont have a car so I have to wait on the corner for the streetcar, in the snow, in the cold, and it's still not that bad. Spring is almost here. It really isnt as bad as its made out to be. In fact, it's the least of my worries.

We have met some really nice people. In fact, the other day Keith called me to find out if we already had arrangements for Friday night because we had been invited out to dinner. A month ago we had no plans, ever! Now we have two dinners this week. We've met a wonderful couple two doors up who are warm and fun to be with, who drop by when they feel like it , to have a glass of wine and who have made it their mission to invite us over and introduce us to their friends. We have been made to feel incredibly welcome.

I've been driving around Toronto, figuring out where things are and avoiding getting lost. Despite its size, this is an easy city to navigate. South African cities make no sense and are much harder to learn. I love being in the car (on the wrong side of the road) and sitting in traffic and thinking "wow.....I live in Toronto".

The Bad
Emigration is not easy. Leaving friends and family behind is the hardest part. Not having our Saturday lunches makes me sad. I miss getting angry at Parea because someone decided to order for the whole table. I miss Espresso's Village Salad with extra Avo. I miss breakfast with Renzo at Nice. I miss lunch with Carolyn at M&A. I miss coffee with Terri at the Michaelangelo. I miss Simon's braai's. I miss sitting around the kitchen table and bantering with Kenneth. I miss it all.

The Abusively Ugly
My mother has stooped to an alltime low. Before I left South Africa I settled all her bills, paid the humoungous pharmacy account, gave her some money and told her to start acting like an adult and taking responsibility for herself and her finances. I have been suporting her for years. I have paid of hundreds of thousands of rands worth of debt. Keith constantly tells me that she will never learn because she knows that I will always bail her out. He is right. She knows that all she has to do is cry, apologise and promise never to do it again. Inbred Jewish Guilt forces me to make that transfer each time she tells me she needs money even if I dont have it because despite how I feel, I could never take the chance that she is going hungry or without something that she needs. I have never been able to save because every extra cent goes to either supporting her or to pay off some form of debt that she has created, be it a doctors bill, the phone account or her overdraft. Granted, my mother has never taken the money and used it for clothes, holidays or extravagant items that she did not need. And therein lies the problem because its always been things that she needs. I have tried many times to take controld but but she becomes nasty and absuvie and to be honest, I dont have the energy to manage her life. Before I left South Africa I told her that I would give her a monthly allowance that she had to manage and that was it. Naturally she agreed but every two weeks I get the sms or call telling me that she needs more money because the pharmacy bill was high, the phone account was high, the medical aid went up. And I pay up. Turns out, that she has no fucking clue whats happening with the money because about 6 monthys ago she handed her ATM card over to Jonathan, her "who knows what" that lives with her and hasnt bothered to check up on her finances since. Typical behaviour of a victim that isnt happy unless somone else is recsuing her. So not only has Jonathan been receiving free room and board, but he has also no doubt been helping himself to cash whenever he needed it. I didnt mind him living there for free because I liked the fact that she had company but I made it very clear when he moved in that he needed to pay his own way when it came to food and his own living expenses. But things dont always go according to plan and Lawrence, the sucker, now owes the bank a fortune.

My mother is not a mother. She has not done a motherly thing for me in over 20 years. She is the person that gave birth to me. Would I walk away if she were self-sufficient? Possibly. But despite how I feel, she is a sad, lonely, bitter and emotionally ill woman and she is my mother. I have a responsibility to look after her. How do I reconcile that internally? How do I say No. Our relationship is purely one of give and take, I give and she takes. It is not a happy one, nor is it a mutually rewarding relationship. It is based on need. I have long given up the dream that she would be the parent I longed for. All I try for now, is to ensure that when she is gone, that I never regret the things I didnt do. Like she did with her own mother.

Painful karma?

I get these attacks. Last night was by far one of the worst. It’s a weird unexplained thing that I have had since childhood; a mixture between a spastic colon and an abdominal migraine but doesn’t fit the symptoms of either. It only happens at night, does not seem to be related to anything specific and basically my entire abdomen goes into a spasm that it feels like I have knives being pushed into and out of me and that I have acid eating me from the inside out. Sounds dramatic but there is no other way to describe the horribly excruciating pain. It lasts for about 4 or 5 hours and then I literally pass out from the pain. I usually take some kind of anti-migraine and/or pain killer which also helps knock me out but doesn’t seem to take the pain away and I usually take it way too late.

I think the attacks started after my dad died but I cant be sure. At the time it was put down to anxiety and stomach ulcers. When I was in matric my doctor decided that my appendix was causing this and promptly removed it. The attacks continued. In the back of my mind Ive often thought of these attacks as karmic. Like something that my body needs to experience and it happens once every three months or so. Sometimes I feel it coming on and either its mild or I take something to stop it but then it comes back the next night even worse.....as if by preventing it my body is getting me back because its something I need to go through.

I know I know, my mind is disturbed! But when its all over I feel quite energised and almost cleansed. Go figure.....

Seeking out the Same

I flew to New York this weekend to surprise Natalie and her mom. New York City has always been an exotic destination for us South Africans. It’s a city we watch on television and in the movies, and many of us only dream of visiting. Things seem different though when you live an hour away and going to New York was like hopping on a Kulula flight to Durban, made so much easier now that I am permanently resident in Canada and not seen to be any kind of threat as I was when I used to enter the US on a South African Visa.

I arrived at Newark Airport in New Jersey and took the train into Penn Station, which is in downtown Manhattan. I SMS’d Doreen to let her know that I had arrived and she sent me the address of the restaurant where they were having brunch. Ive been fortunate enough to have visited New York enough times to know how to get around and which direction to go in. The surprise was such fun and well worth it. My biological family are scattered around the world and for various reasons we barely communicate, with each other so this family mean the world to me. I’ve been said to liken us to an episode of “Brother’s and Sister’s” and I say that with pride and affection. Watch any episode when you don’t have a big family and it’s all you want. The other day I was on the phone to one member that was SMS’ing another, had a Skype video call going at the same time to another and had Keith shouting in the background. We were all talking about the same thing, to each other! But I digress…

We spent most of Saturday wandering around Manhattan. Natalie and I got dressed later that evening and headed out to a bar in SoHo to meet an old school friend at a birthday party. We arrived early, had no idea whose birthday it actually was, lied ourselves into the private party and headed straight for the bar. A couple of vodkas later we joined the birthday group made up mostly of ex-South Africans now living in the Big Apple. Soon after that the Tequila made an appearance and at 3am I was outside looking for something to lick. Nats and I then made our way to Times Square and after unsuccessfully licking a NYPD cop car (visit We Lick Anything on Facebook for an explanation) we met up with the ex-South Africans again at a diner uptown and had an early breakfast.

I realized something that night. I could never understand why South Africans that emigrated actively seek out other South Africans, forming little South African communities all over the world. I always said that if I left, I would avoid that and integrate myself into the community that I had chosen to emigrate to. But four months into my own emigration I realize now how familiar and safe that group of fellow South Africans feel, the common bond is immediate, the accents are comforting and there are no questions or explanations of why we are here and who we are. I get it. We are human beings that like to seek out the same.

P.S. Read “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time”. What an amazing book.

Catching up

I haven’t written in a while. It’s not that nothing interesting has happened but rather the fact that there are so many other ways for me to tell people what’s going on. I thought that my blog would be a way for me to stay in touch with friends in South Africa and give them an insight into my new life in Canada. Skype, MSN and the cell phone have made that part easy. Then I thought that my blog should become a diary but do you really want everyone to ready your diary? I didn’t think so.

Quite a lot has happened as life in Toronto has fallen into it’s own routine. I got my driver’s license! Canada does not accept my South African license. I was allowed to use an International one for 60 days but after that it became defunct. Ontario has a graduated license programme. First you write an exam on the rules of the road and road signs. It’s computerized and gives you a G1 license, which allows you to drive with a licensed driver for a period of 1 year. After that you get to take a road test and you get your G2 license which allows you to drive but with conditions attached. After another year you take your G2 test which includes highway driving and if you pass you become a fully fledged G license holder which means you can do pretty much whatever you want, however if you break the rules, you lose points. For those people with licenses from other countries, you have the option of skipping through the timelines and going straight to G2 immediately. If you fail however, you start from the beginning. Naturally I got my G1 and decided to pass go and attempt the G2 test. I went for two driving lessons and driving on the “other” side of the road proved to be quite easy for me. The more difficult part was breaking the bad habits and trying to remember to “look left, look right, look left again, check your mirrors and blind spots (chin to shoulder) and keep to the speed limit”. It’s way too much PT for me! Anyway I went for my test on Tuesday. It’s been snowing here and the one thing I vowed not to do was attempt to drive in the snow. I was going to wait until summer and do it on dry roads but those who know me well, know that I can’t resist a challenge. The test took all of 20 minutes. We drove around the streets and I did a 3-point turn and a semi-parallel park. (I call it semi because there was only one car in front of me. Apparently you don’t parallel park in-between two cars in case you hit one!). We then went onto the highway, off the highway and back onto the highway again. Names are confusing here, the highway is the road and the freeway is the highway and the pavement is the street and the sidewalk is the pavement. Then there are express roads and collector lanes and traffic lights, not robots. But I passed, and that’s all that matters. Maybe it seemed easy because I’ve been driving for a long time, but I still think that the South African K53 test is way more difficult. Oh, and I got to take my test on an automatic car and be able to drive either type. Like I said, not as strict as South Africa but the roads are definitely safer, no crazy taxis and Joburg drivers.

We had a good Christmas. It’s the first one that we haven’t been with our friends or family. I miss our “Jewdo”. It’s a tradition that we started about 12 years ago where we all get together on Christmas day for lunch and exchange cheap, silly gifts. Keith and I promised each other we would not buy gifts this year. He wants a new TV so we decided to buy that and it would be the gift to each other. The catch was that we were waiting for the Boxing Day sales to buy the TV. Now there is no way that I was going to allow him to wake up on Christmas morning and not get at least one gift, that’s not fair and certainly not in the spirit of the holiday. But I made a promise. So I kept it, and made sure that the dogs each bought him 2 gifts. And he kept his promise and bought me a Chanukah gift! All in all, we were both sufficiently spoilt. We headed out to the Boxing Day sales yesterday and bought the TV at a ridiculously low price and then hi-tailed it out of there. The 200 long queues outside Abercrombie and Fitch were warning enough.

We definitely weren’t alone for Christmas. We are incredibly fortunate to live on a very sociable street. Our neighbours are a couple that has lived here for 16 years. They are friendly and they know lots of stories. Not only are they happy to finally have good neughbours that also sweep their steps in the morning instead of just doing half, we are happy to have friendly neighbours that also sweep our steps in the mornings instead of just doing half. Our street is short and lined with houses filled with similarly friendly people who greet each other. It is a welcome change from the high walled fortresses we are used to. We spent Christmas Eve with our neighbours, their family and a few people that live on the street. Everyone was so happy to meet us and made us feel very welcome. When they found out that we didn’t have plans for Christmas they immediately invited us back the next night for dinner. We had a great dinner with lots of wine and games on the Wii…. And then at about midnight the neighbours started coming over. A couple that we had never met arrived with gifts in hand for the newcomers. We got home that night feeling very much at home.

I’m looking forward to 2009. I’m looking forward to summer in Toronto although Winter really isn’t bad at all. I’m looking forward to Doreen arriving on Monday. I understand that it’s expensive and far to fly to come visit us. I understand that if you’re going to go on holiday that you’re going to go somewhere fun, especially when you only get a few days off a year. The only reason why I’ve been fortunate enough to visit so many friends that left South Africa is because I get to travel with work. If I was paying for it myself I’m not sure I would have done it as frequently, opting rather for trips to Thailand. Having said that, the best thing about me being able to visit my friends in other countries is that when they call, I can picture the room they are calling from because I’ve been there, I know the street they live on and the store around the corner and it makes me feel closer to them. So it means the world to me that Doreen immediately added Toronto to her USA holiday when she found out that we were moving here and then decided to come earlier. We have lots planned for the week that she is here.

I hope that my friends know that they are always welcome to visit and learn a little about our world in Toronto so that when I call, they will know exactly where I am.