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| Contents |
Issue No. 329 -- 9 May 2005 |
Editor's Message
Quote/s of the Week
Ad Hoc Article/s of the Week
Bits and Bobs
The Legal Beagle
Help Desk
Where are they now?
Club and Other News
Humour
Recipes
Sports News
Credits and Contact Info
Subscribing and Unsubscribing
| Send this Issue to a Friend! |
TOP |
This past week has been on the busy side! Captain Ken and I took daughter Deborah and granddaughter to Bakubung and they had a great time.
I was not as happy as although there are signs around about the monkeys and keeping windows closed (we had to open our windows to air the room as we had booked a non-smoking room and were assigned a smoking room... sorry – we’re fully booked so can’t move you... and within twenty seconds a large monkey had hopped up to our balcony and nipped into the room, grabbed the biscuits and hopped out again), I did not expect to be visited around midnight by an unknown ‘presence’ that took the turn-down complimentary nougat from the bedside table, hopped up on top of the TV cabinet to unwrap it, then stole the coffee creamer and left a sticky trail over the floor before banging on the bathroom door and crashing about inside the bathroom. Luckily I don’t have a weak heart! I woke Captain Ken up and he slowly advanced to the bathroom where the intruder proceeded to disappear back into a hole where bathroom tiles had been removed. Ken pushed a towel into the hole and locked the bathroom door so nothing else could get into the room.
Needless to say I did not sleep much for the rest of the night! Ken spoke to the manager on duty the next morning but he did not seem very put out or bothered by this. I wonder what he would have done if I had had a weak heart and suffered a heart attack??
I am writing to their head office myself.
I organised the wedding party on Saturday for Candice and Matthew. Fifty of their friends came for theme party – dressed up on various costumes. Captain Ken and I went as Internet Romance!
These from me...
Obstacles don't have to stop you. If you run into a wall, don't turn around and give up. Figure out how to climb it, go through it, or work around it. Michael Jordan
When you follow your bliss... doors will open where you would not have thought there would be doors; and where there wouldn't be a door for anyone else. Joseph Campbell
There comes that mysterious meeting in life when someone acknowledges who we are and what we can be, igniting the circuits of our highest potential. Rusty Berkus
Send in any quotes you love... that have some special meaning for you... and I will use at least one every week. Usual address! editor@saw.co.za
| Ad Hoc Article/s of the Week |
TOP |
Coming Home
Each week we will feature a question and answer sent in to the Company for Immigration. We hope these will help answer any questions you might have regarding any part of the coming home process. If you would like to send in your own question, please feel very free to do so.
We will also be featuring a great amount of information on the SAW Website (www.saw.co.za) under the Coming Home section. You can also find out info by visiting our newly relaunched site, South Africa Online (www.southafrica.co.za) and checking out the Coming to SA section.
Here is a bit more info...
Whenever and wherever South Africans meet, the surest way to start a lively discussion, is to ask someone for an opinion about emigration from or remigration back to South Africa. In 2002 we (i.e. the non-profit immigration service, Company for Immigration, and the trade-union, Solidarity) realized that the return of South African expats had become a fact and that their inputs are essential for the growth and development of the country. We are neither interested in a debate about the reasons why people leave or come back, nor about the merit of their decisions. We prefer to provide a practical service instead:
offering advice and assistance to prospective remigrants;
addressing the problems which cause people to emigrate; and informing people about the pros and cons of emigration, to help them make an informed decision before leaving.
Interested? Want to receive our monthly newsletter by email? Have questions or suggestions? If so, please visit our mirror sites www.comehome.co.za or www.komhuistoe.co.za and leave your details on the visitor's page, or contact us at admin@cfi.org.za. We are looking forward to hearing from you!
Some info from Alana which I am publishing again this week in case you missed it last week:
The Come Home Campaign assists potential South African remigrants to return to and settle in South Africa. When returning, one should definitely have sufficient funds to sustain yourself and if still in the age bracket where you wish to work, try your best to secure employment before returning. Netmark, Solidarity's labour consultancy, is a trusted partner of the Come Home Campaign. All CVs (a.k.a. resumés) received from potential remigrants are forwarded to Netmark to be marketed by them for an unlimited period. This is a free service. Sadly, with unemployment being a national problem, it is neither an easy, nor a fast process to find a lucretive offer of employment. A lot of patience is required and remigrants should be clear about their requirements of a position. It helps us if the following information is to be found in a CV:
• The person's South African ID-number.
• As much technical details about his/her current experience as possible – such as the machines, programmes, or kind of cases that he/she is familiar with.
• Geographical preferences, in other words would he/she prefer to work in a specific town, city of province?
• Profile of company he/she would like to work for - in other words, a multi-national corporation, a small boutique-type outfit, or what?
• Scope of salary he/she would be prepared to work for (minimum to maximum).
• Does he/she have dependents that will accompany him/her?
• How much time would he/she need to relocate or wrap things up, if an offer of employment is made?
Realism is advised - a salary received in the UK in British Pounds cannot simply be converted to Rand to establish the salary requirement in South Africa, as different costs of living will apply. A good idea is to surf the Internet and have a look at similar positions on offer on South African employment sites. That will help you to establish a realistic salary.
Any CVs will be welcome and can be sent to us at admin@cfi.org.za. We hope you will be back in a good position in South Africa soon!
Alana & Annatjie
COME HOME CAMPAIGN
Migrasie / Migration
Solidariteit Alliansie / Solidarity Alliance
P O Box 8766, Centurion, 0046, RSA
Tel: 0027-(0)12-6438532
Fax: 0027-(0)12-6438587
admin@cfi.org.za
The Good News - South Africa recognised for its press freedom
I received Guy's article for last week a bit late - so here it is as well as this week's Good News.
The international organisation Reporters Without Borders (RSF) has marked this year's World Press Freedom Day by publishing the third annual Worldwide Press Freedom Index. South Africa appears at number 26 out of 167 countries, coming out ahead of countries like the United Kingdom (28th), Australia (41st) and Japan (42nd).
Tying for the top of the list were Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Ireland, Norway, Slovakia, Switzerland and the Netherlands, while the bottom positions were taken by North Korea, Cuba and Burma. China (162nd) retained the undesirable label of the world's "biggest prison for journalists" by detaining 27 of the 107 reporters in jail around the world as of 1 January 2005.
The index was drawn up by asking RSF's partner organisations (14 freedom of expression organisations on five continents), its 130 correspondents around the world, as well as journalists, researchers, jurists and human rights activists, to answer 52 questions to indicate the state of press freedom. Results showed that press freedom in many diverse parts of the world continues to be under threat, with 53 journalists killed in 2004, the highest number since 1995. Iraq remains the most dangerous place in the world for journalists, with 19 killed and 12 kidnapped in 2004.
South Africa, the highest ranked country in Africa, has been described by RSF as having "genuine press freedom", a giant leap forward from the country's draconian censorship laws of the 1980s. The country's neighbours, Namibia (42nd) and Botswana (50th) were also recognised for having "traditionally respected press freedom".
The Bill of Rights in the South African Constitution guarantees every citizen the right to freedom of expression, which includes freedom of the press and other media, freedom to receive or impart information or ideas, freedom of artistic creativity, academic freedom and freedom of scientific research.
South Africa has nineteen daily and ten weekly newspapers, although that is not counting the hundreds of community newspapers produced around the country. These are owned by five different newspaper groups - Independent Newspapers, Naspers, Johnnic Publishing, New Africa Publications, and CTP/Caxton. These groups are also responsible for many of the hundreds of weekly and monthly magazines and internet news sites that are produced in the country.
The South African government does not own or control any of the country's media. Instead it feeds the private media with information about its programmes and policies through the Government Communication and Information Services (GCIS) and the various communications offices within government departments.
And this week's article...
World's joint-largest telescope completed at Sutherland
Until recently the largest telescope in southern Africa was a 1.9m instrument. Today South Africa can boast that it has an 11m instrument with a 78 square metre high-precision main mirror, one of the three largest telescopes in the world, housed at Sutherland in the Karoo.
The South African Large Telescope (SALT) has been called South Africa's ultimate scientific innovation, built by a team of people including many who had no previous experience in building telescopes. Based on the Keck telescope in Hawaii and the Het telescope in Texas - both of which are the same size as SALT - South Africa's enormous new telescope was created with partners in the UK, USA, Germany, Poland and New Zealand.
While SALT is based mainly on the design of Het, it includes a number of improvements which overcome the design flaws evident in Het. The project manager, Kobus Meiring, had previously led the development of the Rooivalk attack helicopter, and put his previous experience to good use. The team managed to build SALT for under R200 million.
Due to start its first major stargazing in July, SALT is big enough to be able to observe events in space that happened around 13 billion years ago. Because the images that the telescope can pick up are so far away, it has taken that long for their light to reach us. It is believed that this will help enormously in understanding more about how the universe began. The telescope will also help in increasing the amount that we can see in space - currently believed to be only 10% of what is out there.
SALT is expected to drive a good deal of new space tourism, with people coming from all over the world to see the telescope and what it can reveal in space. Property prices in Sutherland, especially for houses that can be used as guest houses, have already headed for the stars in anticipation.
For more interesting and exciting news about developments in South Africa, subscribe to the International Marketing Council's regular BrandSA newsletter by visiting www.imc.org.za/goodstuff.htm or www.imc.org.za/subscribe.asp.
If you would like to contact Guy, visit his web site here.
A different picture?
This from Ray:
This posting came into one of the groups I belong to. I feel this should be shared, just to counter the constant moans of those who left or want to leave the country and can't get themselves to see any good in it, or at least admit any good about SA.
Ray
Hi All
I have just returned on Friday from a visit to Cape Town. This was my first trip to SA in 5 years and I was fairly apprehensive as to what I would find.
I must admit that I was very pleasantly surprise to find a general upliftment in every neighbourhood. New suburbs arose out of nowhere since we left 6 years ago. There seems to be a huge amount of money going around.
Once thing that stands out is all the burglar bars, barbed wire etc that is now common in ordinary homes. It is getting harder to get into homes and maybe that is why you get these brazen attacks on shopping malls.
My brother whom I stayed with is a detective with more than 20 years in the SAP. He has not carried his service pistol for more than 3 years as he feels it is not necessary. His wife also has more than 20 years service. They told friends and family of my visit and on my first night there was a constant stream of visitors. Everybody laughing, chatting and joking like one big family which are of course.
They have a nice house with a small mortgage. Their pension funds are strong and they have medical aid. Things in the Cape are most certainly better than what they were when we left. I tried to find reasons to get them to emigrate, but apart from the crime, could not make any headway if you look at the complete picture. The most compelling argument is the future of their children, but who knows where SA will be in 20 years.
We left for no other reason than Jesus leading us to NZ and our family is very involved in the ministry. We have been blessed greatly in NZ as we were in SA. We had our scary moments having to use fire arms defending our property, but through all of that God kept us safe.
My own philosophy is that we should not focus on the world around us, but keep out eyes on Jesus. You are immortal until your job on earth is done. If God wants you home He will take you when its time and it does not matter where you are. I had a wonderful time seeing all my rellies and friends and really miss them. It was nice to see Table Mountain and my old home town Simons Town. I also took a drive to Paarl and it brought back so many good memories. Seeing the mountains etc was great.
If I had left SA on accord of circumstances, would I have been thinking about packing. Probably not, but I would have giving it some serious thought. Things are better in the Cape now so on the surface it does not seem like a bad idea. It will be hard to buy property there now!
We are safe here, but stuff happens here too. People leave SA but spent miserable life's here missing their loved us and complaining about everything. They merely swap one set of "problems"with another set of "problems". Some break NZ down as they do with SA. They look for happiness from outside factors instead of finding it from the inside. They also miss out on the joy that only Jesus can give.
In the end then, to leave of not to leave. I say ask Jesus and He will help you with your decision and then the process.
Must run. I am sure we can debate this forever.
God bless you all.
[Name deleted -- Ray]
Destiny
This from Daniel Jan le Roux daniel@thelerouxs.com
During a momentous battle, a Japanese general decided to attack even though his army was greatly outnumbered. He was confident they would win, but his men were filled with doubt. On the way to the battle, they stopped at a religious shrine. After praying with the men, the general took out a coin and said, "I shall now toss this coin. If it is heads, we shall win. If tails, we shall lose. Destiny will now reveal itself."
He threw the coin into the air and all watched intently as it landed. It was heads. The soldiers were so overjoyed and filled with confidence that they vigorously attacked the enemy and were victorious. After the battle, a lieutenant remarked to the general, "No one can change destiny."
"Quite right," the general replied as he showed the lieutenant the coin, which had heads on both sides.
You never know what God may send
This from Errol Errolimpala@wmconnect.com
A woman received a phone call that her daughter was very sick with a fever. She left work and stopped by the pharmacy for some medication for her daughter. When returning to her car to find she had locked her keys inside.
She had to get home to her sick daughter, and didn't know what to do. She called her home to the baby sitter, and was told her daughter was getting worse. She said, "You might find a coat hanger and use that to open the door." The woman found an old rusty coat hanger on the ground, as if someone else had locked their keys in their car. Then she looked at the anger and said, "I don't know how to use this. "She bowed her head and asked God for help.
An old rusty car pulled up, driven by a dirty, greasy, bearded man with a biker skull rag on his head. The woman thought, "Great God. This is what you sent to help me????" But she was desperate, and thankful. The man got out of his car and asked if he could help. She said "Yes, my daughter is very sick. I must get home to her. Please, can you use this hanger to unlock my car? "He said, SURE. "He walked over to the car and in seconds the car was opened.
She hugged the man and through her tears she said, THANK YOU SO MUCH.... You are a very nice man."
The man replied, "Lady, I ain't a nice man. I just got out of prison for car theft."
The woman hugged the man again and cried "THANK YOU GOD FOR SENDING ME A PROFESSIONAL!"
Lord I love you and I need you. Thank you for living in my heart.
Mind Massage
It's a birthday week here at the Frost house.
That means it's a time for celebration and reflection.
Whether you love your birthday, hate your bithday, or don't give it a second thought, I hope you'll consider viewing it a little differently after reading this week's piece.
Cheers,
Maya ;-)
Mindfulness and Birthdays: Surprising Moments
The first week of May is a big birthday time for my family. My husband's birthday is May 3rd, and my oldest daughter's is May 6th. This convergence seemed almost too good to be true the week that Taeko was born. We were living in rural Japan, and it was Golden Week, a period of several national holidays that generally coincides with the magnificent display of cherry trees in bloom.
Back in 1986, on May 3rd we celebrated Tom's 23rd birthday. May 5th is Children's Day in Japan, with colorful koi-nobori (fish flags) flying from posts in every neighborhood and children participating in greatly anticipated festivities. How perfect that I went into labor on that day of celebration of the joy of childhood.
Taeko was born at 1:00 am on May 6th, and as she settled into my arms and gazed out toward the open window on her first sunny morning, a gentle breeze picked up a few pink cherry petals from the tree right outside and scattered them over her beautiful rosy face.
I will never forget it as long as I live.
As we get older, our birthdays seem to lose their luster. I know many people who prefer to ignore their birthdays altogether.
I understand and respect the shift toward fewer gifts and less hoopla, but I think it is a shame to ignore the opportunity for mindful reflection. We should view birthdays as prized reminders to connect and celebrate.
Sharing your birthday with others becomes less about unwrapping presents and murmuring "You shouldn't have!" and more about laughing with your loved ones about the milestones you've all navigated over the years.
And if we do it right, there's plenty to laugh about, even when we look back on the bumpiest of years. As the old saying goes, having a birthday is better than the alternative!
If your own birthday doesn't inspire you, look forward to the ones celebrated by others. Turn them into an opportunity to play a little birthday mindfulness game.
In the spirit of finding a reason for celebrating reflection, I called an old high school friend on his 45th birthday last month.
He was absolutely dumbfounded. We hadn't talked in over ten years, and our last conversation was a quick hello at a class reunion. But I had always remembered his April 8th birthday, so I made a round of phone calls and tracked him down, reaching him at home as he celebrated quietly with a handful of family and friends.
We had a delightful conversation. It made me wonder why I'd never picked up the phone to call him in all these years. But then, we all know the answer to that--we get busy, and even if we do think of calling, we talk ourselves out of it because it might be, well, weird.
Far from weird, it was heartwarming, affirming, and truly connected us despite the fact that our friendship had faded over 25 years ago. At the end of our call, Scott said, "I will never forget this as long as I live."
What more can anyone ask of a birthday?
Your Secret Assignment
There's a good chance that you have known SOMEBODY during your life who is celebrating their birthday in the next week or so. Here's my challenge to you:
Track them down.
Get past the "this is weird" barrier.
Call them on the phone.
Simply wish them a happy birthday.
No grand expectations. No worries about how it might go. It's just a quick congratulatory call.
Go ahead. Make someone's birthday memorable. In the process, you'll create your own memorable moment.
And really, don't you want more of those? That's what mindfulness is all about.
When you're done, send me a message and tell me about it!
maya@massageyourmind.com
Plan B
Can't muster the courage to call? Well, the least you can do is send a little card or even an email. The point is to surprise someone who will never expect a birthday greeting from you. All it takes is a bit of mindfulness about May birthdays you may have known in the past, and a sense of playfulness about surprising someone.
It's remarkably fun to be sneaky. Try it!
The New Website
I'm a bit behind schedule on launching my brand new website.
Hey, I've been celebrating birthdays, and that is more important!
I hope to have it live in the next two weeks. Thanks for your patience and curiosity.
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Maya Talisman Frost is a mind masseuse offering specialized mindfulness training to individuals and groups in Portland, Oregon. Her work has inspired thinkers in over 100 countries. To subscribe to her free ezine, the Friday Mind Massage, please visit http://www.massageyourmind.com.
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©Copyright 2004, Maya Talisman Frost
52 Best Stories – Love You, Mom
Three mother's day cards stood on the living-room console, meant to cheer me up, I suppose. Yet I couldn't help thinking, There should be four. I couldn't help thinking of my oldest, Dennis. Two years, now, since he died, yet my grief hadn't faded. If anything, it had gotten worse.
Dennis was my determined one. He ran his own business down in Texas. Even when he was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in his thirties, he refused to let it get in his way. He went everywhere in his wheelchair, even designed a special one to travel with when he visited us in Michigan. You almost forgot Dennis had anything wrong with him, which is exactly what he wanted.
Then he was struck down by terminal cancer. Because of the MS, perhaps, it spread quickly. In those last days, we spoke on the phone when I couldn't be with him in Texas (Dennis could no longer travel and I was also caring for his father, who was seriously ailing). Dennis always managed to say one thing before he hung up,
"Love you, Mom."
"I love you too, Denny," I said, though each time the words were harder to get out, because I knew it might be the last time I said them.
I thought a lot about his life in those last days, what a fine man he'd become, what a sweet little boy he had been, a boy who loved birthdays and balloons. Lord, how will I ever go on without hearing him say, "Love you, Mom?"
For the funeral the family gathered at our church in Michigan. At the end of the service we went out to the parking lot. Everybody was given a balloon. There were more than 100 of them-sky blue, hot pink, daffodil yellow, green like new grass.
Our minister said a few words, then we released the balloons. I watched them float into the blustery March sky and disappear. Into the arms of God, like Denny, I tried telling myself. But as the months passed, my grief grew. If only I could let go of my son like I had that balloon.
For a week I kept those Mother's Day cards on the console, hoping they would comfort me. But, no, they made me miss Dennis all the more. Sunday I got up early. I took coffee to the dining room so I could look out the window to our backyard. The lilac bush was in full bloom and birds darted among the trees by our wishing well.
Something appeared in the sky. A shiny Mylar balloon. It slipped between the trees, hovered above the wishing well, then stopped at the bird feeders. There was no string holding it and the breeze was blowing in the opposite direction, yet it floated toward the house.
From the window I could see all my favorite flowers printed on it-lilacs, violets and pansies. There was a message too, but I couldn't make it out. I went outside to get a closer look.
That balloon didn't come from out of nowhere. Nor did the sudden sense of peace and relief that enveloped me. I knew exactly where it came from. Printed boldly across the front of the balloon were the words.
"Love you, Mom."
~ The Author is Mona Robbins copyright 2005 which story has appeared in Guideposts magazine ~
http://www.52best.com/mom.asp
One Man’s Australia – Howard's hubris
A fortnight ago John Howard gave an expansive interview with journalists in Athens. He was on the return swing of a trip indulging his love of being seen with soldiers. He had starred in the 90th anniversary commemoration ceremonies of the dawn landing at ANZAC Cove in the Dardanelles that led to the Gallipoli disaster.
The interview lit a brushfire that could go far towards destroying his government as a political force. He stated that he would lead his party in the next Federal election campaign, scheduled for 2007.
This was gall and wormwood to the Federal Treasurer, his deputy Peter Costello.
Costello has been the Federal Treasurer for 10 budgets now and has been the architect of the smooth growth of the Australian economy, building on the reforms of the Hawke/Keating Labor government which preceded it.
As many see it Costello has done the hard work and Howard has accepted the applause for a decade now. As yet another Parliamentary term would see John Howard into his 70s an infuriated Peter Costello has indicated that this is his last budget and has refused to rule out challenging for the leadership.
Australians are running a book on whether Costello has the ruthlessness that Keating displayed when his second challenge succeeded - largely because Labor Party members panicked when they realised that he was prepared to destroy the Party to being Hawke down. So sufficient Hawke supporters voted for Keating - in order to save the Party - to ensure that he succeeded.
Howard's government has now been destabilised to the extent that Labor may well win the 2007 election.
As if the Cornelia Rau scandal of a couple of months back was not bad enough the Press broke the news during the week that Howard Government had wrongfully deported an Australian citizen, who, like Cornelia Rau, was both mentally ill and had been reported as a missing person, to the Philippines in 2001.
She was deported in a wheelchair, having been run down by a motor vehicle. She now cannot be located by the Philippines Government, who were notified by Howard's Government only 3 weeks ago despite the Department of Immigration having become aware of the wrongful deportation in 2003.
Her younger child - a boy now 9 years old - has been in foster care since childcare workers contacted the Queensland Department of Family Services late on February 16, 2001, to report that his mother had failed to collect him. The whereabouts of her reported older child are unknown.
Unfortunately for John Howard his doughty Minister for Immigration was on holiday when the news broke and her deputy admitted that somewhere between 30 and 100 Australian citizens had been wrongfully detained as illegal immigrants since 2001.
How John Howard is going to avoid a Judicial Enquiry into the shambles remains to be seen. But in the Australian vernacular he is "as cunning as a shithouse rat" - which is an expression of grudging admiration - so it will not be easy for Labor to get one established.
Then last Sunday al-Jazeera showed a tape of an Australian citizen, 63 year old engineer Douglas Wood who had been captured by Iraqi insurgents, begging for his life. A group calling itself the Shura Council of the Mujahideen of Iraq said it was holding him.
The price was the removal of Australian, American and British troops from Iraq.
The Australian Government never pays ransoms nor has its Foreign Policy dictated by kidnappers. In this it is always supported by the Opposition so the policy is bipartisan.
However on Monday a task force arrived in Iraq to try to free him. They pointedly ignored both the Iraqi Government and the US forces and instead made contact with Sunni clergy and Sunni tribal sheikhs.
The senior Australian Muslim religious leader has made a direct plea to the group holding Douglas Wood hostage in Iraq, asking it to release him unharmed. Sheikh Taj Eldin Al Hilali met Mr Woods' two brothers at Sydney's Lakemba mosque to film an appeal in Arabic which was played on Arabic television networks last night.
Early yesterday morning, the group holding Mr Wood captive demanded in a video that Australia begin withdrawing its troops from Iraq within 72 hours. He was shown again pleading for his life, this time with his head shaven, with one eye swollen shut and the other eye blackened.
President of the Lebanese Muslim Association Keysar Trad says the Mufti is planning to fly to Iraq in the hope of personally asking Mr Wood's captors to release him. "The initial hope is to get some more time, to get the abductors to extend the deadline, and to allow us this extra time to negotiate with them and we're hoping that eventually Mr Wood will be released, He's been making preparations for the last few days and he's just waiting on some final arrangements and he may travel today or tomorrow."
Mr Trad says the Mufti told the insurgents that he sees Australia's current role in Iraq as a peacekeeping force.
We shall have to wait and see. The deadline expires at about the time you are reading this.
The Mufti is risking his life.
Northern Lighties
"Power tends to corrupt
And absolute power corrupts absolutely"
Sometimes we all enjoy a good "I told you so" and none more so than when it is a sanctimonious person who is found with their hand in the till.
Those of you who follow my missives will know that my opinion of the Liberal Party of Canada is low. About the only thing lower being the unthinking sheep who, despite all the evidence to the contrary, insist on putting this bunch of crooks liars and thieves back into power on a regular basis so that they can carry on usurping their power for their own nefarious deeds.
In fact I have been castigated on numerous occasions for being "nasty" about the Government and told to shut up and be a good immigrant.
Although why my silence would make me a good immigrant puzzles me. I would have though that getting involved and being a vocal part of the process is more important than being compliant. After all that is precisely what the Liberals want out of their immigrants. Total unblinkered compliance and a vote that places them back in power.
Despite more and more evidence coming to light about how they have stolen billions of dollars from the public purse and used it to enrich themselves and their pals.
As evidence began to mount up that Teflon Jean Cretin the last PM was involved in some nastiness, Paul Martin, the new Prime Minister, decided to institute a commission of inquiry headed up by Judge Gomery to investigate the extent of the corruption inherent in the Government and the Civil Service.
Whether Martin did this to get back at Chretien without actually thinking through the consequences is interesting. Martin and Chretien weren't exactly the best of pals but Martin was the Finance Minister in the Government at the time and as such was, should have been, could have been, must have been involved. To then institute an inquiry that could implicate him seems bizarre. Unless he genuinely believed that nothing would come out or, even stranger, he didn't know squat and wasn't ashamed at being portrayed as a bumbling fool who hadn't a clue what was happening under his nose.
Mind you given his performance since the start of the revelations I am inclined to believe that Martin may be a good man but he seems to be totally lost at sea and trying to please everyone while pleasing none. Although I think that there is a huge amount of desperation creeping into his actions as it becomes apparent that this Government ids heading for an election very quickly and that there is a good chance of it being defeated at the polls, such is the tide of anger washing over the electorate lately.
It appears that Martin and his cronies are aware of their dislike and seem desperate to remain rooting at the trough and so every despicable action and trick is being trotted out to fool the electorate again. The left wing media in radio and TV going into overtime on the same tired, hackneyed "Right wing agenda" canard that has served them so well in previous elections.
This time however the ordinary man in the street seems a little more perturbed by the theft of their money than whether Harper as opposition leader may have some hidden agenda (which I might add is only hinted at by the left wing propagandists and never specifically identified. This is despite there being a full manifesto available to anyone who wishes to read it.)
For myself the full impact of how the Liberals are panicking came about when Martin went onto TV for a broadcast to the Nation.
I am not sure how he came across to other people but to me he seemed shifty, scared and totally untrustworthy.
Of course no one questioned the use of public funds to use public media outlets to ask Canadians to trust him to find out what had happened to the public funds that the last Government had stolen.
'Give me time" he bleated. "Don't kick us out until the Judge has finalized his report."
Sure. Why not? We may as well let them steal us blind until we are one hundred percent sure eh?
If that wasn't bad enough shortly afterwards we had the interesting spectacle of the far left NDP suddenly jumping into bed with the Liberals so that there wouldn't be an election before certain pet projects of the left were instituted. Mind you the way Martin put it was very ambiguous and perfidious in its extreme. My understanding was that he offered the NDP a host of trendy lefty promises and money in exchange for their votes come a no motion debate and that all of these promises were, to put it plainly, quite worthless! Even given that it was taxpayer's money he was promising.
You would have thought that the NDP being past masters at this type of duplicity themselves, would have cottoned on.
Interestingly we now have the Conservatives and Parti Quebecois lined up against the Liberals and NDP in a fight to topple the Government.
I say interesting as the Conservatives main support lies in the Western Provinces while we all know how the PQ would like nothing better than to have independence. There have been some serious mutterings about Alberta seceding as well so we have the interesting spectacle of the possible break up of Canada being supported from two political opposites.
In addition the original aim of the corruption that has been exposed was ostensibly to stop Quebec from gaining independence. How stupid will the whole exercise have been if ultimately it actually causes the total break up of Canada.
Judging by the poll reports of most Ontarians still voting Liberal despite this evidence of Liberal theft, lies and duplicity that may in fact be a lot closer than many of us think.
Ramblings Of A Francophobe
Breakfast in Bratislava, Starvation in Zimbabwe, and Sacher Torte from Vienna!
I have bitter-sweet memories of the days when travelling behind the 'Iron Curtain', especially by train, was an adventure. A succession of grim officials, fearsomely armed, scrutinised every page of your passport, holding it at different angles towards the light. When they grudgingly agreed to let you into their miserable and deprived country, they’d force you to change your hard-earned ‘real’ money into piles of worthless local currency with which you could buy nothing that anyone might conceivably want, such items anyway either being permanently unavailable or only to be purchased with hard currency, hence the thriving black market which you used at your peril, the main danger being that you would be ripped off without recourse.
Although I hold no fondness for the misery which communist oppression inflicted on the people of Eastern and Central Europe, I am saddened to see, and this applies throughout Eastern Europe, some of the worst aspects of capitalism, such as a McDonalds, with its litter and stench, right opposite the beautiful Slovak National Theatre, and ancient streets lined with Body Shops, Zara, Benetton and their like. This is globalisation, and I detest it, protesting by making a point of never buying the products of these ubiquitous emporia. It’s no longer an adventure to travel into Eastern Europe, and this time it was barely an hour on a morning train from Vienna, and a cursory passport inspection later, that I was in Bratislava, the Slovak capital, with its stunningly beautiful and unspoilt historic town centre and the smoothly flowing Danube. I was drawn in to a church during a Sunday morning service, captured by the rich organ music and the clear soprano voice of the solo singer. The church was full, and recalling the days when the communists banned religious worship, so important to the traditional and deeply religious people of most Eastern European countries (70% of Slovaks are practising Roman Catholics), sent cold shivers through me, and I had to get back into the warm sun to exorcise the demons that the memories of those harsh days brought back.
Unlike nearby Prague, Bratislava hasn't yet been discovered, and I hope it won't be, by the hordes of British lowlife who descend on nearby Prague and Budapest for SSV (stag, shag and vomit) weekends. After a pleasant afternoon stroll around the picture postcard quaint old town, marvelling at the wealth of cultural activities on offer, and an excellent lunch in a Slovak traditional restaurant, I checked out a couple of hotels with a view to a future, and longer, stay. I was pleasantly surprised at how clean and organised everything appeared to be, although I was given a reality check when I called a friend who used to live and work there. Her theme was: ‘Try living there rather than seeing it as a wealthy (?) tourist on a day trip and then see how you like it.’ A valid comment, but one which can be applied to most places. Many of my friends and associates envy me for my life in the South of France, whilst I loathe the place, primarily due to the avarice and spite which are so prevalent in dealings with the local ‘gentry’.
In the afternoon I returned to Vienna by hydrofoil, a comfortable trip of just under two hours, and it was during this trip that, whilst reading the guide book I’d bought, and becoming slowly aware of how much I’d missed out on by not spending more time in Bratislava, I read that Bratislava and Vienna are the world’s two closest capitals. (I would dispute this statement, as surely that distinction belongs to Kinshasa (Democratic Republic of Congo) and Brazzaville (Congo Republic), which are separated by a few hundred metres of river.) That aside, I am looking forward to going back soon for a few days to enjoy some concerts, opera, and wonderful food, all at knock down prices.
My previous trips to Vienna had been marred by wet and blustery weather, blizzards not being conducive to sightseeing. This time the weather was superb and I spent a lot of time walking around the city on warm evenings, discovering the alleys off the bustling pedestrian streets. There I found a huge choice of traditional style bars and restaurants from cheap, cosy and cheerful, to upmarket and formal. This might be the only city in the world where you can see gentlemen in evening suits tucking into McDonalds’ prior to performing at the Opera House. The city is full of the most beautiful buildings, museums, churches and cathedrals forming a majority, many hidden away and only to be found in chance ventures away from the main areas. The public buildings are illuminated at night and the massive Burghof palace, where the Spanish riding school is located, and the Rathaus, in particular stand out against the clear sky like something from a fairy tale. It almost seems unfair that this one city should have so much beauty and culture. It makes Paris with its filth and thieves and unfriendliness and crowds look positively tawdry and, as many times before in other places, left me wondering why Paris is credited with the title of the most romantic city in the world. Not in my book it isn’t!
Vienna also has clean, efficient, safe, and inexpensive public transport, running until well after midnight, and there is a visitor’s pass (€12,60) which allows unlimited travel for three days on all services - an example which other cities should follow.
I'm going to Cape Town later this week and have just finished cramming 20 kilos of used clothing, mainly kiddies’ stuff for the Red Cross Hospital in Rondebosch, into a suitcase. A friend who works in the burns unit there took me on a visit recently. Most of the kids are from deprived homes on the Cape Flats and have been burnt by paraffin stoves and similar, resulting in horrific injuries from which they will never recover. There is a need for clothes, which the hospital use not only to send the children home properly clothed, but also by selling adult clothing they raise funds for facilities and equipment which the hospital could otherwise not afford. Our friends and colleagues have been generous and we have a further 30 or 40 kilos which I cannot take as most airlines are so strict now with the baggage allowance that I was refused an extra allowance even though I have a letter from the hospital requesting donations of clothes and thanking me for previous ones!
I'd really like to try to get stuff to Zimbabwe where the need is even greater than SA. The situation there is appalling, with possibly millions of people on the verge of starvation due to the despotic murderous policies of Mugabe. Little is being said in the world at large because the number of people affected is relatively small, there are no major economic interests there for the West, and above all because nobody wants to say that Mugabe is a racist despotic tyrant because they are afraid of being accused of being racist. Those of you interested in an inside view of the current events there as they affect everyday people should read Cathy Buckle’s weekly newsletter at http://africantears.netfirms.com/thisweek.htm . Cathy is the author of ‘African Tears’ and ‘Beyond Tears’, truly a heart rending account of what is happening in Zimbabwe today as the rest of the world sits by, watching the tragedy taking place but doing nothing. Mugabe’s regime is comparable to the world’s worst tyrants, such as Cambodia’s Pol Pot, CAR’s Bokassa, or Idi Amin, all of whom practised genocide.
I’ve just had a conversation with a friend about Lifeline, and it reminded me of some of the odd calls in the days when I worked for them in Cape Town as a volunteer. Perhaps the stupidest was a woman in Gardens (so we're not talking hardship ....) who rang to complain that the local Spur wouldn't deliver to her and she was hungry and what should she do! Ironically she lived about 10 minutes walk, and in those days it was safe to walk, from the Gardens Centre where the nearest Spur was located. I told her that she obviously did not know what 'hungry' meant' and she accused me of being callous and cynical. The sad part is that she was serious about it!
Hunger is, of course, relative. I brought back a delicious Sacher Torte from Vienna on Tuesday for my son to give to his mother for Mother’s Day (today!) Having had two slices, I’m ‘hungry’ for another. We must never lose sight of how fortunate and privileged we are compared to many millions of people around the world and we should all try to do our bit to help, however modest our ability to contribute may be.
Tot siens
MIKE
Boetjie Worldwide
The sum total...
What, apart from having been born there, makes one a South African? Someone posed me the question a while ago and made me think a great deal about the answer. I soon came to the conclusion that, much as I can define what makes people South Africans, the result would be a generalisation, so here is, rather, what makes me a South African. Hopefully it will make you consider what you are and where you stand, dear reader.
Like anyone else, I am the sum total of my experiences. I am my past and my present, and everything in that past and present has been adding to who and what I am today, just as the layers of nacre eventually make a pearl. As I sit here, typing this, I am wearing shorts bought in Japan, sandals from Portugal, a t-shirt from South Africa and a sweatshirt from Australia. I have come a long way since that stormy night in the eastern Transvaal when I first bawled my way into the world with the tumult of a Lowveld thunderstorm outside the hospital.
My South Africanness is made up of the wide, open plains of the Karoo, the hills of the Cape Midlands, the mountains of the Boland, the red sands of Namaqualand and the constant grumble of the sea on white sandy beaches. Enormous skies so blue they hurt the eye, deep gorges and ravines cut through ancient mountains, mountain streams so cold they sting one's skin, the prehistoric hills of the interior – these are all layers of my being.
The taste of prickly pears, of apricots picked off the tree; the sweet scent of sun-warmed ripe hanepoot grapes on the vine and the heady fragrance of the veld, these are so much part of me I will never be able to slough them. Eating watermelons chilled by the night air in Oudtshoorn or drinking witblits on a frosty night in Vredendal; biting deep into a Prince Albert peach so succulent its juice runs down one's chin, or eating fresh litchis or mangoes… these are tastes of my South Africanness.
So is the language I learned at my mother's knee, my language Afrikaans, which is still one of the most beautiful and definitely the richest and most creative language of those I know. Over the years I have picked up other tongues: French charmed me and reminded me of my Huguenot ancestry, German brought me Schiller and Goethe and Nietzsche and a whole new world vision, Portuguese enabled me to express the fire in my blood, and English opened a whole new world to me. I love these languages, too, but even when I dream in English or find myself cursing in Portuguese or German, my soul still whispers in Afrikaans, the language of my childhood and the language of NP van Wyk Louw, Breyten Breytenbach and CJ Langenhoven, but also the language of my Coloured and Black playmates when I was small.
Ingrained into my pores, and indelibly so, is the soil of my mother country, be it the rich loam of the Lowveld, the dry, harsh soil of the Karoo, the red sand of the Northwest Cape or the clays of Stellenbosh. The African sun baked these into my skin, and in my veins flow the great rivers of my country, the Orange and the Vaal, the Kei and the Great Vis, the Buffalo and the Olifants, in whose waters I so often swam as a teenager. Perhaps growing up in a landscape so often parched by years of drought and relentless sun explains my fascination with water in all its forms. What I do know is that my blood was made in Africa, just as my flesh was. Nothing can ever change that.
Today I find myself in a rather strange sort of hiatus: I am no longer fully a South African in the sense that I do not live there any more, but I have not yet become anything else, either. I have a South African soul and passport, but my body and my mind are at peace wherever I find myself outside the country of my birth. My heart? Well, that goes where it wants to, it seems! However, some recent e-mails have made me realise how much of me is still South African. I have a large number of contacts who left the country to settle in other countries, and it is their reactions to South Africa that made me realise that I am not one of them…
South Africa has enormous problems with poverty, AIDS, unemployment, crime and corruption, amongst others, but it is still a country with millions of South Africans who are willing and determined to build a future, who roll up their sleeves and work for a better tomorrow. I admire them, as I admire those who had left, but have since returned because they want to make lives for themselves in the country of their birth. It is these people who will determine the future of the country; it is the ones who are prepared to bite the bullet and press on. For us who are no longer there to try and make their work undone by spreading (often with great relish) only bad news about the country is unforgivable. I am sick and tired of receiving e-mail after e-mail from expats who relate with gusto and sorrow some new sad event (which somehow always seems to involve only victims from one race group, sadly, yet significantly). Yes, there are atrocities, and yes, the government often makes a mess… but if you cannot help to make things better, at least don't try to make them worse.
I will probably never live in South Africa again. If I am lucky I may get to visit every now and then, but even that is not certain. I may take Australian citizenship when the time comes, but the deepest core of my being is and always will be South African. There is nothing I can do about that, even if I wanted to, other than to discard my entire past and reinvent myself. But my layers of being which are so deeply ingrained with everything that made me who I am today will always remind me of where I came from. I am grateful for that, for my childhood and most of my adult life spent in my motherland. And I admire more than words can express every single South African who has dedicated himself or herself to contributing to the future of the country, as I admire the many who have learned to appreciate and love South Africa, even though they come from other parts of the world.
I am the sum total of my South Africanness. And I pine for the smell and taste of burst-ripe, sun-drenched hanepoot grapes on the vine on a summer's day when the air is heavy with sun and the dry earth creaks under the heat, for the brooding majesty of the Cape mountains and the thunder of the West Coast surf. But I am where I wanted to be, happy and building a new future for myself, a real Boomerang Boertjie nowadays! I will always be what I grew up to be, though, and happy with it. We can grow, yet have a part of ourselves firmly rooted in the most precious soil of our motherland. That is how it should be, I believe, and it doesn't mean we cannot spread our wings wider and find sustenance in new countries. It simply means that we need to acknowledge that we are what we were made by where we grew up, and go from there.
Mooiloop
Ray
raytheron at iprimus.com.au
No queries received this week.
Nobody needing help this week.
If you are looking for a lost friend... if you would like old friends to contact you... If you want to find old school friends... if you just want people who used to know you to find you again for a chat...
Send in your info, the info of anyone you are looking for and let’s see if we can find them for you!
Please send in any news for SA clubs wherever you are!
No humour received this week.
This past week with the family around I was persuaded to make a cheese fondue. Being vegan I do not eat the stuff but my son loves it so being a good mommy I made it for him and for my daughter and granddaughter who had never had a fondue. Captain Ken also enjoys it... I made my own cheeseless fondue in another fondue pot so everyone had a fondue to dip!
1 kg Swiss or other country emmental cheese (I used Austrian as it was the cheapest!)
250 gm gouda/sweetmilk cheese
1 bottle very dry white wine
6 cloves peeled garlic left whole
good grate of nutmeg (about ¼ teaspoon)
2 Tb cornflour mixed with small amount of wine from the bottle
Use large heavy based saucepan. Pour most of the wine into the pay, reserving enough to mix with the cornflour to make thin paste.
Add garlic.
Heat the wine and then add the grated cheese in batches (about a good handful at a time) and stir briskly but carefully to melt the cheese.
When all the cheese has been added bring to a gentle boil and then remove from the heat and stir in the cornflour mix.
Stir well and place back on very low heat and continue to stir until all the cheese mixes into the liquid and becomes smooth anc creamy. Add mutmeg and stir again.
Transfer to fondue pot and keep warm. Stir often and serve with chunks of French bread, cherry tomatoes, chunks of baby sweetcorn, baby mushrooms and chpeed baby carrots.
Sepeng fights to clear his name
Hezekiel Sepeng, South Africa's 1996 Olympic 800m silver medallist, is fighting to clear his name of doping after testing positive for nandrolone.
Sepeng, who faces a two-year ban if the follow-up test confirms the first result, was tested out of season in his home town of Potchefstroom in February, Athletics South Africa (AFA) said on its website.
http://www.iol.co.za/index.php...
'Black and white revival on the way'
It was just a few months ago that Ollie Le Roux castigated the Sharks for their poor performances in the Super 12, now the former Durban favourite is singing their praises
http://www.iol.co.za/index.php?set_id=6&click_id=4&inlink=1
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