South Africa

So it’s back to the virtual tour of my photo album – as I promised. A little while ago I found an excuse to visit an old college friend of mine who had long since emigrated out to South Africa.

It’s not possible for someone like me to write about South Africa without some mention of apartheid, just last week I remember talking to somebody who was saying that she still felt troubled whenever she heard a strong South African accent. It doesn’t bother me that much these days but then again I watch cricket and the accent has the effect of making me want to duck out of the way of battered cricket balls more than anything else.

Anyway, accent’s aside, the country is breathtakingly beautiful and (displaying my ignorance and prejudices) very modern. (at least the bits I got to see) It had my favourite landscape feature – mountains but these had the curious aspect of looking as if somebody had sliced the top of them off – nobody could tell me why they looked like that. It also had, just outside Johannesburg a Lion Park where you could literally reach out and touch the big ol’ pussy cats. Infact, the previous year, we were gleefully told by the guides, a Japanese tourist had done just that … unfortunately the normally chilled out lions took exception to this and chewed said Japanese tourists arm off! I took my pictures with my arms tucked safely away.

There are three big cities in South Africa, Johannesburg in the east, Cape Town in the west and Durban in the south. I never got to go to Cape Town which is a shame since it’s said to be particularly beautiful but that just means I’ll have to go back again sometime. I was, however, lucky enough to go to Durban – great place … sandy beachs, lots of Indians and fine, fine fish restaurants infact that’s a great thing about this country – good food.

Friendly too – although it didn’t take too long to work out that there’s a certain amount of social apartheid at work with the white, asian and black populations only warily engaging with each other. Business seems to be the glue that is slowly binding the three communities together. (karma-cola like I guess)

I didn’t spend too long in the country but did enjoy the time I was there and although security was a big concern of most of those I spoke with, (with those who could afford it living in heavily guarded and fenced off compounds), there was a sense of optimism in all their attitudes. But the spectre of Aids hung over this optimism and for me, growing up being told about the exploding population growth in Africa, it came as something of a sobering shock to hear that in parts of South Africa the population is being, literally, decimated by Aids.

The recent drugs policy changes could not have come sooner, (well, they could have but the big fat patent-holding pharmaceutical companies and the politician’s were being disgustingly greedy, as is their habit).

Chilli Morning

urm… I’m not getting obsessive am I? … ‘cos if I am, jus’ lemme know an’ I’ll stop – (yeah right!)

Voodoo Chilli Mania

I think I may have stumbled onto something…

Did you know that it’s possible to sip a spicy cocktail before tucking into a spicy fruity salad and all this to the accompaniment of tracks 4 and 16 of a spicy little album.

…but what would they make of all this madness in Belgium, hey?

Belgian Visitor

Went to a couple of BBQ’s over the weekend … I don’t want to eat another piece of piri-piri chicken again for at least … forever.

The first BBQ was with some of the TV crowd I’m sharing office space with – nice party – nice people. The second was at my cousin’s it was just family but included amongst them was a cousin I’d never met before who was visiting from Belgium.

He was originally from Bangladesh and like many Bangladeshi’s before him his dream had been to get to Britain. Unlike my father’s generation though, he wasn’t invited to Britain or Europe so he had to try to get here by other means.

It was interesting listening to his experiences of Europe as, it has to be admitted, an illegal immigrant. (He has got legal status now in Belgium so no need for calls to the home office)

His route was via Turkey, through to Italy then France and eventually to Belgium doing whatever jobs he could find. Mostly working in fields, he said, which he enjoyed. He was an interesting chap, a bit of a dreamer and a little directionless. Nevertheless, many people like him are working in the fields and vineyards of Europe bringing in the harvest – when they’re allowed to. Government’s EU-wide turn a blind eye to this practice for obvious economic reasons. However, this unregulated labour market can sometimes have fatal consequences. Afterall, there are no unions for illegal migrant workers. (not that having a union would be of any help these days) Anyway, back to the Belgium Bengy cousin, he revealed that he had become a vegetarian as a consequence of not having access to halal meat. (at least he had access to plenty of meat this weekend)

While he was talking about his precarious existance I thought, why is he bothering anymore? In Bangladesh he had family support and status, he had enough education to be able to make something of himself and by the standards of the land he was privileged. Yet he risked life and limb and spent huge sums of money getting to Europe and the best part of his youth scraping a meagre living picking grapes for wine and avoiding eating animal fats.

Why?

I felt like telling him to just go back to his family in Bangladesh thinking that surely he’d be much happier in the long run … but on reflection, I decided against sounding like a Tory … it’s bad enough that I’m thinking like one.

Voodoo Chilli