For the past couple of months we’ve all been so high on gees many of us had forgotten that bad things happen. Crime was way down, no one had been murdered in days, and there was a general feeling of camaraderie between Africans and tourists of all race and creed. Perhaps it’s because of the bad news hiatus that when I logged onto my preferred news sites this morning, I was appalled at the amount of bad news being thrust at me. Tourists raped in the Eastern Cape, Festival goers trampled to death at the Love Parade Festival, LindsayLohan in jail, and I can’t even talk about what’s happening with the Bokke. So with the intention of hanging onto the gees for as long as possible, I will not harp on about that which makes us miserable for the sake of South African commentary. Instead I will talk about something far tamer and more universal – seeing old friends and realising you’re not as far off the course as you might’ve thought.

 

Part of being human is wanting what you don’t have. For many people living in the rural areas of South Africa, moving to Cape Town or Johannesburg is the dream. For those who grew up in those cities, London or New York might be their cup of tea. And those that find success in the biggest cities in the world want nothing more than to move to the countryside and grow their own vegetables. Somewhat cyclical, but we’re built that way to avoid complacency. So when you’re stuck in the daily grind, it’s natural for you to think that this isn’t where you want to be. And why should you, when there’s so much more of the world to see? On Friday night a friend that lives in the bundus came into the city, so the old crowd was gathered up and placed at a table along with platters of Mexican food and jugs of margheritas. It had been a while since the whole gang was together, and inevitably the conversations quickly turned to “So, hey, what are you doing now?”

 

When we all met, we were students or waiters or both. We dreamed of the day that the payment of rent didn’t depend on the tips we got that weekend or the stress of writing a thesis in-between double shifts. So when the chatting started, it dawned on me that we’re now a collection of professionals. An editor, a journalist, a filmmaker, a nature conservationist, a jewellery maker, a chef, and some people in finance whose jobs nobody understands. We’re living the dreams we all worked so hard to achieve. And although we won’t become complacent or ever stop wishing for something more, we’re on the right path, and sometimes that’s enough.

1 comments | July 26, 2010 

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