Free & Untorn

In 2011, my tuition was R 35,020 for one year including a registration fee of R 3200 but not any of the books, stationary or living costs. Ok, I lived at home, but then again my sister was completing her Masters at the same time as I was finishing the BA, so for 2011 my mother probably had to pay around R70000 to the university. Without achievement bursaries and family waivers and my mother's hard work as a tour guide we probably would not have had the privilege of higher education.

For about a week now my FB feed has been flooded with student protest from all around the country. Friends at different universities repost and provide commentary of what is going on, giving a broader overview than the media has been able to. Yesterday I had a long Skype session with a friend about why the protests are happening now, what the problems at the heart of them were, what this means going forward. Six students in Cape Town have been arrested and accused of high treason as thousands of others today march on the Union Buildings in Pretoria to call for a meeting with President Zuma on the shocking price increases of tertiary education.

I am too far away and have been unaffected by any of this as for the past two years I have payed €500 in total as Germany doesn't have tuition fees, just a student contribution. I have profited from a system that highlights education and even provides financial aid through BAföG (a law that allows for a monthly stipend of up to €650 where half is an interest-free loan that has to be repaid 5 years after completing the degree) to those whose parents do not have the financial means to support them. Naturally, the two countries are vastly different and Germany has one of the strongest economies, thus having the funds to support tuition-free learning. For many of the students currently protesting, they might be the first in their family to even get to university, the first to have a chance at something better. And is this not what everyone wants: for those who come after us to do better and to have it better? Instead there is global warming and ISIS and corruption and #BlackLivesMatter and Alaskan oil fields and billions in mismanaged funds and and and.

But this protest back home, man, it stirs something inside of me, somehow the hope that change for the better may come from this, that somehow there has been a small shift in people's attitudes that simply said: no more. We have ignored this up to now, we have laughed about a president that cannot even read his party's membership numbers, we have accepted the crime rate, we have accepted Nkandla, we have accepted the xenophobia, we have accepted the fear of one another, we have all said that something must change but what and how and then gone back to our braai and watching the rugby/cricket/Isidingo/7de Laan.

So perhaps this, this could be it. This, more than petty politics between the ANC and the DA. This, more than bridges collapsing on the M1 or grandmothers still using the 'K' word or Marikana. This, because the born frees have had enough. This could be our June 16, 1976.

My salvation lies in your love

Yesterday, incredulously, I watched as President Zuma announced Nelson Mandela's death. Until now he had always bounced back from his numerous hospital stays. What it must feel like to be home, now, to share in the sadness of his passing and the joy his life had brought. In Germany an epic storm is causing floods and blowing away trucks, but what nature inflicts on itself seems tame compared to what people can do to others - it took an indomitable will and a humanity that most lack to be able to forgive one's oppressor as Mandela did.

My whiteness and my youth prevents me from truly understanding what the struggle was, what had been sacrificed and what it meant to live in a country where race controls your life. Actually, no : I have never not had freedom, but I know that race is still a deciding factor in SA. It is a ripple underneath everyday life that somehow refuses to disappear. I notice when I am the only white person because I feel it makes me vulnerable. white + girl = better watch your back. Not always, not everywhere, not because everyone is some criminal, but simply because the ripple of racism is closely followed by the ripple of crime and corruption that washes over any hope for a better future.

I wrote at the beginning that it is astounding what one person can do to another. I wonder if now we have moved past racism to class difference being the main social problem: those who have nothing see no moral qualms in killing another for a cellphone. However, if you have a roof over your head and enough money in your bank account you might wonder how someone could be so dismissive of the rights (and in the worst case scenario the life) of another.

It is difficult for me to speak on these issues while sitting in another country, starting a new life here. But within two weeks three of my friends were assaulted in one way or another and it is very hard to remain 'Proudly South African', to say wonderful things about your home and assure people that the crime is 'not that bad'. I miss my family, my friends and my country all the time, especially after hearing news like this. I miss the sunshine, December holidays at the beach and not looking like a pale vampire. I miss feeling like I belong.

But I also enjoy not having to be afraid all the time and being able to walk home, alone, at 3 AM after a friend's house warming and not worrying about being robbed.

As the blanket of sorrow falls over South Africa and everyone is in a state of mourning, I wonder what Madiba's death will mean for the future of the country. What influence did he still wield, if any? How will power relations in the ANC shift? Will Zuma stay on for a second term? Why do people not see that at least in part they are voting for their own demise? It will be an exciting time to observe what happens to Mandela's legacy, and whether the people of the rainbow nation will manage to find a pot of gold at its end or fail in this endeavour. I choose to cling to optimism because historically South Africans have fought too hard to attain the rights listed in the current constitution. It cannot have been for nothing.

Powerless

It was about 10 PM. The man walked across the street, wearing a black coat and carrying a small plastic bag in his right hand. I noticed him because no one walks here at night. Darkness threatens safety more than anything you could actually see.

Within the broad category of horror films there is a sub-genre focusing on home invasions. Think of films such as Panic Room, Funny Games, The Strangers or Inside, which share the common theme of someone inside being threatened by something/someone outside. Now, for most people this remains merely a type of horror movie, something to watch and then to forget.

Sadly, in South Africa home invasions are a very possible threat, with escalating violence attached to mere break-ins in recent years. I will not pretend to be an expert on the underlying social issues of the country, on whether race plays a role (or the size of the role) and on the occurrence and effect of home invasions in other countries. But I live in a house with two laser beams in the garden, an electric fence, an enormous black gate, slam-lock doors inside the house, burglar bars in front of all windows/doors and more keys than I have fingers.

And this is not because we bury ourselves underneath some irrational fear of everything outside of our walls. It is because I can't remember how many times people have broken into our house; it is because we have a community watch where people have radios and drive patrol through the neighbourhood because the police have proved incompetent at best; it is because 4 men where in our house and assured me they wouldn't rape me; it is because at night we treat traffic lights like yield signs; ultimately, it is because once the fear has taken hold it grows like a cancer and there is no cure in sight.

It shouldn't be strange for someone to walk home at night. I shouldn't always have think about keeping a good distance from other cars when I am stopping at a robot just in case I get smash-and-grabbed and need to escape. We shouldn't have to patrol our neighbourhood. The one should not be afraid of all that is other.

Yet I don't see anything changing soon, especially if the Rand keeps weakening, poverty keeps increasing, people cling to mistrust and the rainbow nation focuses more on sticking to its individual colours than to creating a beautiful whole. Sure, things are changing, we keep evolving as a young democracy, but it always seems to me as though the population is out in the wilderness somewhere, searching for a better life for all, whilst the politicians are like monkeys in a cage, throwing shit at one another.

I'll be moving to Germany soon, not to become some expat who keeps assuring everyone that 'leaving was the best thing I ever did' but who still clings to past illusions of this country. Rather, I am going to continue my studies, with no further plans. But it will be interesting to live in less fear. Here, I often hear myself saying: this is the way it is, so we live with it. This is not the way it should be. We are immensely privileged to live in such a diverse country, where both the nature and the people are astounding, and no one should be struggling this much for basic health services, basic education, basically feeling safe.

Society, you're a crazy breed

Friends and I have started to work on a project. We are not entirely sure what it is or what each of us wants from it, but at the centre is this idea: "play your part". Being in academia is a lonely place where one trades in egos and needs to constantly side-step conversations because no one ever says honestly what they think. It is also an elitist space with people often presenting papers and speaking in such a way that the average Joe is clueless as to what they are actually saying. Maybe it's only me who does not understand.

It bothers me that being 'learned' is restricted to those that can afford learning. It is not like that everywhere in the world, but here (and I am assuming in many third world countries, which South Africa is not and still is, somehow) getting a good education often seems out of reach. I am not sure if the reason people don't demand a better education is because they are uneducated ; if the government preaches better education but does nothing to improve the system in order to keep the majority of the voters dumb and clinging to the ANC's 'liberator' persona; if many are simply not interested in learning, or if the concept of education in itself is wrong.

In the gym the other day I overheard two middle-class white ladies saying that the schools had failed their children because the kids were told that they were bad at a particular subject when in effect it was just the teacher's style of transmitting the information that was wrong. I don't know. I never liked our math teacher and thus also did badly in mathematics, irrespective of going to additional classes and trying to study. I still think that trigonometry and algebra were torture. But young people should also learn that life is not handed to you on a silver platter and that the average person is not great at everything. Finding one thing you are good at is already an achievement. I mean, I know I can bake decent cakes, but beyond that who knows what my strengths are.

Anyway. Back to project no-name. It really doesn't have a name. But the idea is to change the way academia works and to make learning more horizontal instead of hierarchical. Learning doesn't stop when you finish school/university/etc. Learning never stops. And I think that is what is fundamentally wrong with the education system here: it preaches that when you complete your matric or your degree or your diploma, you will get work with that and then you have stopped learning. But in the 21st century it is no longer plausible to believe you will be employed by the same company for your entire life, or that you will find a job doing exactly what you studied. Let's see if our project can succeed in helping to change the way society thinks of education and thus play our part.

Clap your hands say yeah

The whole weekend I was thinking that I had so many interesting topics to blog about, but now everything escapes me. On Friday, the 27 April, South Africa had a public holiday ( Freedom Day) to commemorate the first democratic elections held on on that date in 1994. I went to the festivities held at the Union Buildings, which is where the president does his leading-the-country-thing. Well, when he is in Pretoria, at least.

I took these photographs last year.

The building is situated on top of a hill that overlooks Pretoria, so it has a very nice view of the city and vast gardens where one can have a pick-nick and just chill on the lawns. The gardens go down in various levels, like steps, and at the bottom they set up a stage for the celebrations. I was waiting for my friend at the top, enjoying the view, but it was a bit awkward because 100% of people who go are black ( the percentage of white people that go is so small that I am guessing it would't even figure into a count). I felt a bit like a zoo animal. Young girls asked if they could take a photograph with me. It was weird.

As I was waiting, this group of young men walked past, and I must have looked like a welcome challenge because one of them came and sat next to me, while the other five squeezed onto another bench to watch what would happen next. The "I-live-in-SA-and-I-am-a-lone-female" in me a bit like "Ja, you will get robbed in a few minutes", but the optimist in me decided that they were probably nice and I should just have a little chat. Shame, the boy did not expect that.

He told me they had come in a bus from Vereeniging, a city ( town rather) south of Johannesburg, for the day's festivities. They were all still at school and he enjoyed accounting the most. Our conversation was going well, although his English was not brilliant and my Sotho is non-existent. My grandmother can speak Sotho, but all I remember is something that sounds like hutla? It means you aren't listening? Or something. My grandmother says it a lot. The boy just laughed at my bad pronunciation and asked who I had voted for. BAM. There it was. Politics. Fuck.

I hate talking about politics. It is like religion: everyone refuses to change their view while still trying to convince the other person to do exactly that. It is pointless. I wanted to talk about Freedom and how it feels like to be a post-Apartheid youth, not about how I think the ruling party's majority is to big, and that all the parties engage is stupid little squabbles over nothing instead of effecting positive change where it matters. All these parties create division, not unity.

So I said I did not vote and avoided the subject. Luckily my friend phoned, he was already at the bottom, so I said my goodbyes, wished them good luck at school and walked away.

I was barely three meters away when the other boys, who had been watching the interaction intently, started cheering and clapping. What for, I don't know. Perhaps my conversation skills have dramatically improved. Or it was just another weird thing on Freedom Day.

  

Why political ads should be banned

via Complex

Political television ads are almost non-existent in South Africa. I remember the ANC and the DA somehow fighting it out, but never really on TV. We also don't have debates between candidates. They just use the press to publish whatever the other party has done wrong.

And then I found this. For a political party, this is terrible. What do you stand for? What are your opinions ( except for pointing out the discrepancies of the current president)? I just don't get it. What does this ad actually do? It's like a kindergarten where one child needs to badmouth another. This is not politics, this is just ridiculous.

To care

I am never entirely sure how personal I can be when blogging. Should I just consider it as a kind of online diary, and write freely? Or is there a need to impose a filter in order not to offend or hurt someone close to me?
By writing about it, could I be making something worse?

There are some situations where I don't know whether or not it would be better to sort it out and talk openly, or whether it is the wiser choice to just shut my mouth and refuse to speak. In my family speaking openly is somehow not often an option. We talk generally, superficially, but when there is an issue, I would like to talk it out, sort it out before moving on, before ignoring that something happened, before pulling the rug straight over years of tiny fights. Somehow it never happens. It is probably my own fault for then not confronting the other party. In film it always looks so easy to talk, it's the influence of series like 7th Heaven (haha, man that was years ago), and now Modern Family, that make sorting shit out seem so effortless.

In any case, here is an advertisement for the Democratic Alliance's student organisation, which has caused some controversy. I think it is quite cool, and certainly an improvement from other political ad campaigns.

via Pantheistic Symphony

For instance, I took this one outside the Greek Orthodox Church near the university. Only problem: barely anyone here speaks Greek, and it sends a message of exclusion rather than inclusion?!

Served

via 2OceansVibe

via BrokeBillionaire

The ANC expelled Julius Malema days ago, and as always Nando's ('s?) advertising is right on par.

Chance to protest

Previously, I wrote about useless protesting going on in South Africa, but here is something you should sign your name to. When Nadine Gordimer states that the bill goes "totally against all ideas of freedom", you know it is worth throwing your funeral outfit on for a day of protest against the possible implementation of the Protection of Information Bill, which allows the government to punish anyone they think is holding and disclosing classified information with jail time of up to 25 years. I read a while ago that had this bill been in place, neither the arms deal scandal nor Zuma's sexual interactions with a young girl would have gone to court. This bill is seen as a threat to free-flowing information and minimises the government's accountability. Read more about the censoring of the Mail & Guardian's article on Mac Maharaj's involvement in the arms deal.


This is what future headlines could look like if we don't prevent this bill from passing : 

Protest

On TV, there are often ads encouraging responsible electricity use and tips on how we can contribute to saving the environment. But I wonder how many people actually do something? When they ask us to turn off all non-essential appliances like the geyser or the pool-pump, we don't do it. I mean, we do general things like recycling, turning the lights off when we're not in a room, having a compost heap ( well, sort of. We had one but rats started living in it so it had to be destroyed and now we collect all the vegetable/fruit rests and go bury them when the container is full) and not driving unnecessarily. But everything is also connected to saving money. I only boil as much water as I need, or my sister turns the geyser off, in the hope that it will reduce the bill.

The same goes for the rhino killings. I have no problem buying a bag at Woolies or sending an sms to donate R10, but actually going to protest somewhere seems like too much hassle. So there is a bit of a contradiction here: we want to save the planet without wanting to give anything up. But it shouldn't be easy to save the world. I mean, it shouldn't need saving in the first place if everyone could just have lived slightly more responsibly, but it's too late for that. We need to consciously take action. A friend of mine studies in Hamburg and he is constantly part of some student protest about fee increases, or world economics or saving the rainforest. When students at my university protest, it is because they feel the student elections are "racist" or because the food in the cafeteria is too expensive. The highlight was when they protested because Spring Day ( a huge get-drunk party) was cancelled. We still had a day off, but students were angry because the university did not provide a party. I think that was ridiculous. Find another party. Throw your own. Or maybe just do some work.

I think it was easier to protest in earlier years. There was one specific thing wrong at the time, and now it seems like there is so much wrong with the world that we don't know where to start. The ANCYL recently marched from Johannesburg to Pretoria to protest. My one friend works along one of the roads they marched past and she said she had never seen so much hatred. But I don't understand whom for. Who do you hate? The Apartheid government ended about 17 years ago, so that falls by the wayside.  Also, the Youth League should deal with the youth's current problems, like AIDS, education, getting people better living conditions, preparing them for a bright and productive future. Instead, 40-year-olds march in order to nationalise the mines, chanting "Viva Gaddafi" and singing songs that were deemed hate speech by a South African Court.

Half of what the ANCYL says does not make sense. I don't know it they are generally against anything ending with an -ism, or if they can define what communism is, or if know what they are marching for. How can you follow a leader who knows not what he says and has no respect for democracy? I would like to stuff Malema like a pinata and beat the shit out of him for taking advantage of people with no options and no education. If you don't know better you can't do better. But instead of inciting anger and hate, and basically destroying ideas of nationhood, unity and a "Rainbow Nation", you should consider what you are protesting for and if it will actually benefit the youth. Not by throwing money at a problem, but by actually trying to advance a society through hard work, education, dedication and compassion.

Malema has been suspended as President of the ANC Youth League.
Although this is great, it worries me that he could have become president in the first place and that the league is just a place for power-hungry people in their middle years to be overpaid for doing nothing. I say restructure the entire league. I say fire all incompetence and focus on building a better nation. We have so many other problems, a silly little man dancing on a podium should not be one of them.

Wasted youth

On the Champs Elysée, Paris October 2008.

Karin Schimke


Almost Teetotal


It starts off well enough.
Even,
I'd venture,
fun. A kind of warmth
softens my sinews,
I laugh more easily,
things muddy become clear,
conversation flows
doesn't cease
to flow, so that
things clear become muddy,
muscles become flaccid.
I discover then,
too late,
that a bit of control
is a good thing, but
continue to exercise
unedited stupidity:
Say pointless things
that confuse me;
dance on higher things
because the floor feels
suddenly limited;
turn up the volume
because turning it down
        - or just leaving it -


are not options;
skidding
slipping
tripping
falling
to the final resting place
on cool white tiles
with a view
to the underside of things,
from where I can propel the solid
pain that us my head upwards
only
by the sincere belief that
one
more
sour choking gagging effort
over the exhausted bowl might
       this time -


bring release from the
persistent
myth
that getting pissed
is fun.


So,
If it's all the same to you,
I'd rather not.


In Difficult to explain


The first remembrance of alcohol is when I was in Grade 8. My sister's class had to host the Matric ( that's 12th Grade, last year at school here) Ball and my mom was there as well to help. A big bunch of my friends ( all girls, please) had a sleepover at my house and some of them had stolen a bottle of altar wine from church. I can't remember how exactly, since I was not there. We proceeded to drink the wine but WHAMBAM my mom returned home to bust us with glasses of wine in our hands. I must admit, we did not think the whole drinking thing through properly. Should have thought about when she would get home.. Or at least we should have drunk ( drank?) in my room and not in the kitchen, since it is the first room one walks into when entering our house.

My mother proceeded to give us a lengthy speech and then as punishment I was not allowed my cellphone ( Nokia 3310 bitches) or access to the TV for a month. It is the only punishment I can remember ever having gotten. I can't even remember being hit one time.

So after this first flirtation we once got hold of a small bottle of Amarula and drank that between the four of us, but that's about it.

Grade 10 is when alcohol begins playing a role in my social excursions. I would borrow my sister's driver's licence or Id or student card and go out with her or with friends who were either of age or had their sibling's IDs or had fake student cards. It was all very illegal.

It is not like the group of us got wasted very weekend or like we were completely irresponsible, but I look back now ( as if it has been that long) and would never act as carelessly. We would go out and then walk back to a friends house, which in SA is not the best idea as girls, alone, in the dead of night. Sometimes her brother would walk with us with his baseball bat, or we would just ask strangers for lifts. Now I could never do the same thing.

Now I think: "Ah, driving tonight. Where did you park the car? Will someone be able to hijack you from there and stuff you in the trunk? Is someone driving with you? Oh, this is your second Hunter's Dry, better order some water next. "

It is not like I don't want to drink any more at all, it is just that my sense of responsibility outweighs my desire to drink too much. Perhaps we drink to forget, we drink to have more courage, we drink to be more sociable, we drink to be more likeable, we drink because we don't want to be in our right mind. And  by drink I don't mean the occasional glass of wine or a beer here and there. I mean getting wasted, losing your house-keys, waking up in strange places, having no money left in your wallet, and a general "feeling-like-shit" the next day.

Ultimately, I am glad to have wasted my weekends when we were still at school, to have gotten drunk in relatively safe environments and to never have done too stupid things. Many people who get to university and taste individual freedom for the first time get lost in the partying and drinking of the first year and fail academically. I am only 23 and already feel too old to be doing that.

A few weeks ago the debate here was if the legal drinking age should be pushed up to 21. I don't know. Will it change anything? By the time one is 21, you are in your last year at university. Hmm. How many people would just continue drinking illegally? How has it affected countries like the US? Apparently two-thirds of South Africans support a drinking age of 21.

If a higher age lessens the amount of alcohol-related accidents and deaths, I say do it. But if there is no significant difference, I think parents should rather focus on instilling in their children moral values where each is responsible for the self. As a society we cannot still have some sort of following for people like Jub-Jub who kill children by drunkenly drag-racing through the streets in the morning. It is all very strange: a man is found guilty of assault for almost spilling whiskey on President Zuma, but more serious accusations like rape or murder somehow fall though the cracks. I don't understand it.



.