It is hard to go back, as I knew it would, to the first few weeks after arriving on our new continent, country, city, neighborhood, house. The reality is, I was not about to type a blog on my phone as I already feel like I have iThumb disease for the amount of time I spend surfing on that little electronic lifeline. That said, I will do my very best. First, I must say that I can't even begin to describe how much it means to me to read your thoughts, comments, and questions on Facebook. Thank you for talking on the other end of my tin can phone line. Now I can't imagine what it must have felt like moving to England back in 2000 without a super fancy mobile device and Facebook!
I am sitting here wondering where to begin.............
THE NIGHT WE ARRIVED: So the flight was fine. As previously noted, the kids slept all night and so did Jake and I. This is huge. Sleep is the jackpot for anything involving children, in my opinion. We managed to pile all 352 of our black, rolling suitcases onto three carts and a very, very kind lady from Zimbabwe offered to push the one Quinn was trying to wrangle. She was obviously either an elementary teacher or a granny - two of the saintliest kind there are - because in the short distance between baggage claim and the find-your-name-on-a-cab-company-sign area, she managed to tell him 100 great things about South Africa and how happy she was to have him in Africa. Following our encounter with Super Sweet Teacher/Granny, things took a bit of a dive. We found a taxi van that could hold all of our luggage, but Jake had to pick up our rental car as well. That meant that the kids and I went in the van, it was hot, we were tired, and somehow we lost Jake. To make a long story short, it took us about 2 hours to get to our new house with a pissed off taxi driver who didn't have a GPS. I was nervous to say the very least. When we pulled into the driveway, I remembered how much I loved this house when we first saw it. As my memories, thoughts, etc. unfold, I think you will see the pattern of good, bad, good, bad. That seems to be how life was there in the beginning. Now its more like good, good, good, sort of bad but we sort of know what to do about it. Anyway, when we walked into the house, we realized that NOTHING we asked them to do (and were assured would happen) before we moved in had been done, including a good cleaning. We were disheartened to put it very politely. We were less than thrilled with the overall condition of the house (bad). Luckily we were put in touch with great people who helped us whip things into shape rather quickly. I met a very passionate ant exterminator who insisted that his job was not just to kill ants, but to educate people on the life of an insect. Nope, really...I'm good. Thanks though buddy. Just need to you kill some ants. Ants dead (good). We had a cleaning service come and give this place a SERIOUS scrubdown, top to bottom, inside and out, over and under, the business. That helped. Ugly, ugly, ugly rental furniture (bad). Ok, this is boring. Moving on...
WHERE WE LIVE: We live in an area called Bryanston. It is a suburb of Johannesburg, and as we have learned prime location for a) Jake to avoid traffic on his 20-25 minute commute, b) great shopping and restaurants, and c) great shopping and restaurants. There are tons and tons of trees, a park down the street, and we are right around the corner from a mountain bike trail. There is a brand new absolutely awesome shopping center 3k down the road, the Bryanston Organic market even closer, Ben's school is on the corner of our block, and Quinn's school is a 5 minute drive. The houses around us are single family houses except for the occasional cluster, which is sort of like large condos with a wall that surrounds the complex. Our house has an 8-foot wall with an electric fence that surrounds it with a metal gate on our driveway. Its really not as "serious business" as it sounds...just how it is here. Everyone has it and you very, very quickly get used to it. Luckily our house has a nice, big yard and, to be honest, I don't really even notice the wall any more. As someone said to me once, you probably won't need it but you don't want to be the one without it. After living in a very social subdivision in Arkansas, we decided to make the break from subdivision living and opted for an area closer to the goings-on. We feel like we definitely made the right choice. One the weekends, we can get to Nelson Mandela Square in about ten minutes. Beauty mate.
QUINN'S SCHOOL: We opted to send Quinn to a regular old public school instead of the American International school. It was not our intention to move here and keep things as "normal" as possible. We thought it was important to expose him to real South African school. That means he wears a uniform (which is overrated, by the way. Does a 6-year-old really learn better because he is wearing a tie and a button-down shirt? Seems like being uncomfortable would be a distraction, but what do I know?), has Afrikaans class once a week, and has kids in his class whose primary language at home is Zulu or Afrikaans. The daily schedule is interesting...they do all of their academics in the morning and then have elective extramural activities in the afternoons. Right now Quinn is in tennis, art, and marimbas (he decided soccer wasn't his thing and golf was on Friday afternoons when he wanted to come home or go to a friends' house). I absolutely LOVE this schedule. It makes so much sense to me. They do the academic work when they are fresh in the mornings and get to try out a million different sports, arts, etc. in the afternoons. The school offers choir, gymnastics, karate, rugby, netball, theatre, and on and on... Very cool.
CULTURE AND OTHER STUFF: One can't deny several realities about living in South Africa. With apartheid still around until 1994, the divide between black and white is very apparent. It is just a reality here and not something that is comfortable or feels right to us. However, the people of South Africa - both white and black - are very proud of the progress their country has made and continues to make. Just ask anyone about Mandela and they are thrilled to talk about what he did for SA. If I am completely honest, I hesitate to write about some of the cultural diversity here out of concern that it will be taken out of context. Please...make NO assumptions about what I am writing. Leave questions and I am more than happy to answer if I am too vague with my writing. I can tell you that we live in a huge city where, literally, on one corner you have a huge, ultra flashy Porche dealership, and right behind it is a squatter camp where people are sleeping in makeshift tents. You see a ladies carrying their Woolworth's grocery bags on their heads, and young moms with their babies strapped to their backs with a blanket (this is very, very common). We have a full-time housekeeper as most people do here but this is so fascinating to me that I feel it warrants its own post. The Domestic Help, as it is called, is considered an established level of the economy and it is almost assumed that you have at least part-time help. Our housekeeper's name is Miss and I promise to tell you more about her as she is an amazing woman.
I could go on and on and now that we have real live internet access at our house, I will be more regular with my posts. Ben is yellling for me from upstairs and I don't think he understands that I am trying to write!
Sawubona! (a Zulu greeting)
I am sitting here wondering where to begin.............
THE NIGHT WE ARRIVED: So the flight was fine. As previously noted, the kids slept all night and so did Jake and I. This is huge. Sleep is the jackpot for anything involving children, in my opinion. We managed to pile all 352 of our black, rolling suitcases onto three carts and a very, very kind lady from Zimbabwe offered to push the one Quinn was trying to wrangle. She was obviously either an elementary teacher or a granny - two of the saintliest kind there are - because in the short distance between baggage claim and the find-your-name-on-a-cab-company-sign area, she managed to tell him 100 great things about South Africa and how happy she was to have him in Africa. Following our encounter with Super Sweet Teacher/Granny, things took a bit of a dive. We found a taxi van that could hold all of our luggage, but Jake had to pick up our rental car as well. That meant that the kids and I went in the van, it was hot, we were tired, and somehow we lost Jake. To make a long story short, it took us about 2 hours to get to our new house with a pissed off taxi driver who didn't have a GPS. I was nervous to say the very least. When we pulled into the driveway, I remembered how much I loved this house when we first saw it. As my memories, thoughts, etc. unfold, I think you will see the pattern of good, bad, good, bad. That seems to be how life was there in the beginning. Now its more like good, good, good, sort of bad but we sort of know what to do about it. Anyway, when we walked into the house, we realized that NOTHING we asked them to do (and were assured would happen) before we moved in had been done, including a good cleaning. We were disheartened to put it very politely. We were less than thrilled with the overall condition of the house (bad). Luckily we were put in touch with great people who helped us whip things into shape rather quickly. I met a very passionate ant exterminator who insisted that his job was not just to kill ants, but to educate people on the life of an insect. Nope, really...I'm good. Thanks though buddy. Just need to you kill some ants. Ants dead (good). We had a cleaning service come and give this place a SERIOUS scrubdown, top to bottom, inside and out, over and under, the business. That helped. Ugly, ugly, ugly rental furniture (bad). Ok, this is boring. Moving on...
WHERE WE LIVE: We live in an area called Bryanston. It is a suburb of Johannesburg, and as we have learned prime location for a) Jake to avoid traffic on his 20-25 minute commute, b) great shopping and restaurants, and c) great shopping and restaurants. There are tons and tons of trees, a park down the street, and we are right around the corner from a mountain bike trail. There is a brand new absolutely awesome shopping center 3k down the road, the Bryanston Organic market even closer, Ben's school is on the corner of our block, and Quinn's school is a 5 minute drive. The houses around us are single family houses except for the occasional cluster, which is sort of like large condos with a wall that surrounds the complex. Our house has an 8-foot wall with an electric fence that surrounds it with a metal gate on our driveway. Its really not as "serious business" as it sounds...just how it is here. Everyone has it and you very, very quickly get used to it. Luckily our house has a nice, big yard and, to be honest, I don't really even notice the wall any more. As someone said to me once, you probably won't need it but you don't want to be the one without it. After living in a very social subdivision in Arkansas, we decided to make the break from subdivision living and opted for an area closer to the goings-on. We feel like we definitely made the right choice. One the weekends, we can get to Nelson Mandela Square in about ten minutes. Beauty mate.
QUINN'S SCHOOL: We opted to send Quinn to a regular old public school instead of the American International school. It was not our intention to move here and keep things as "normal" as possible. We thought it was important to expose him to real South African school. That means he wears a uniform (which is overrated, by the way. Does a 6-year-old really learn better because he is wearing a tie and a button-down shirt? Seems like being uncomfortable would be a distraction, but what do I know?), has Afrikaans class once a week, and has kids in his class whose primary language at home is Zulu or Afrikaans. The daily schedule is interesting...they do all of their academics in the morning and then have elective extramural activities in the afternoons. Right now Quinn is in tennis, art, and marimbas (he decided soccer wasn't his thing and golf was on Friday afternoons when he wanted to come home or go to a friends' house). I absolutely LOVE this schedule. It makes so much sense to me. They do the academic work when they are fresh in the mornings and get to try out a million different sports, arts, etc. in the afternoons. The school offers choir, gymnastics, karate, rugby, netball, theatre, and on and on... Very cool.
CULTURE AND OTHER STUFF: One can't deny several realities about living in South Africa. With apartheid still around until 1994, the divide between black and white is very apparent. It is just a reality here and not something that is comfortable or feels right to us. However, the people of South Africa - both white and black - are very proud of the progress their country has made and continues to make. Just ask anyone about Mandela and they are thrilled to talk about what he did for SA. If I am completely honest, I hesitate to write about some of the cultural diversity here out of concern that it will be taken out of context. Please...make NO assumptions about what I am writing. Leave questions and I am more than happy to answer if I am too vague with my writing. I can tell you that we live in a huge city where, literally, on one corner you have a huge, ultra flashy Porche dealership, and right behind it is a squatter camp where people are sleeping in makeshift tents. You see a ladies carrying their Woolworth's grocery bags on their heads, and young moms with their babies strapped to their backs with a blanket (this is very, very common). We have a full-time housekeeper as most people do here but this is so fascinating to me that I feel it warrants its own post. The Domestic Help, as it is called, is considered an established level of the economy and it is almost assumed that you have at least part-time help. Our housekeeper's name is Miss and I promise to tell you more about her as she is an amazing woman.
I could go on and on and now that we have real live internet access at our house, I will be more regular with my posts. Ben is yellling for me from upstairs and I don't think he understands that I am trying to write!
Sawubona! (a Zulu greeting)
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