Thursday, March 26, 2015

Reis-nota

'n Wolkbreek van lig en skaduwee,
Plataanbome,
Koeie soos rotse,
Kamikazi vlinders sneuwel teen die voorruit. 
Lappe mielielande, soos oopgeslaande boeke, blaai verby. 
Drade rangskik soos gebede van telefoonpaal tot telefoonpaal. 
Voor teen die pad is die gras groen, kloste sade wink op die ritme van die wind. 
Daar is kallers, kinders, karre, huise; 
maar na agter raak die landskap al meer deinserig todat die 
waas van die blond en die 
waas van die blou versmelt, 
Soos die agtergrondstories van mense wat jy in bars ontmoet. 

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

5 minute musings: Feria

And for a while I was in love with a french man. He wasn't my first great love, but he was my first great relationship. Sometimes we would fight about little things, usually because of my deliberate complaining. Oh, how patient he was. But mostly we would talk for hours about living in little houses with white interiors and colourful kitchens. Sometimes we would dream that the little houses would have shutters on the outside. Sometimes they would be painted a light blue. In our minds the houses were always small; too small for how big our dreams were. 

*

I vividly remember a recent trip we took to the south of France, to his hometown. We went for the bull fights, but it turned out to be about so much more.

Landing in the cliched little town, we were greeted by the sounds of festivities and big squares with tables under trees. With our bags and all we plonked down at one of the million little tables. He ordered a juice and I had a black coffee and a cigarette. In the little marching band that passed, there was a man playing a big old white french horn. It was loud, but the wind was cool and calming. Shortly after it was time for the feria.

Monday, March 17, 2014

5 minute musings: Sharing is saving

Sharing a future starts with SHARING - By looking to each other, can sharing give us what we want when we need it?

 All of a sudden kibbutz is a buzz word again, with people dreaming of leaving home for a simpler existence, but kibbutzim is no longer as simple as it was once portrayed.  "Here in the kibbutz, we're not neighbours – we're partners… the kibbutz movement is in a process of change in which there are many different directions. But the thing that unites all kibbutzim is mutual responsibility.” explains Amikam Osem, head of the Afikim kibbutz in Israel, who had to adapt to modern times. None the less, this concept of being partners and accepting mutual responsibility for the community sounds all too familiar, doesn’t it? Yes, we have our own little word for it: Ubuntu. The U.K. economist Tim Jackson refers in his July 2010 TED speech Tim Jackson's Economic Reality Check to Ubuntu as a philosophy that supports the changes that are necessary to create a future that is economically and environmentally sustainable.  No strangers to the concept partnering, and accepting mutual responsibility, the practical solutions brought on by socialist-capitalist ventures popping their heads out in most of western Europe, northern America and the far east have been surprisingly slow to reach our shores and yet the potential to find international solutions for our uniquely African needs, can not be ignored.


POINT A TO POINT B

Public transport is economic and it has a small carbon footprint.  Carsharing, a pay by-the-hour service that ensures you only get a car when you really need it, is another weapon in that arsenal. This service proved to be affordable, private, speedy and flexible in the countries where it has already launched.  Yes, no more insurance, cars gathering dust in garages, maintenance services, parking fees or large monthly instalments just to have your car depreciate faster than you can pay it off.

You must be asking: “Where do I sign up?” Well, nowhere in South Africa yet. And that is the problem. 



According to The Economist you can reduce car ownership at an estimated rate of one rental car replacing 15 owned vehicles by using carsharing. Unfortunately South Africa still has a distance to travel before this is our reality.  One can not help to ask why carsharing is so painfully absent in a vast country where large parts of the population are completely dependant on public transport.  In Johannesburg alone more than a third of it’s 957,441 residents rely on public transport. Another third owns their own vehicles, but the Gautrain has proven that many people are ready to substitute their privately owned cars for an efficient and user-friendly public transport service, even if it is just for shorter trips in and around the city.

Another untapped resource is bicycle sharing.  The Mother City has taken the first few steps in the right direction.  The municipality has made it safer to travel on a bicycle with over 400 kilometres of cycle lanes being created in the last four years and plans to add another 7600 kilometres is the next couple of years. This is big news for people who already own bicycles, but adding bicycle sharing systems can decrease congestion and offer an alternative mode of transport for tourists, pedestrians and car owners, alike.

Carsharing and bicycle sharing shouldn’t be seen as soft alternatives to difficult problems like congestion, pollution and public transport, but as an excellent opportunity for great minds and community leaders to partner and create solutions that doesn’t only take care of the people, but of our little blue-green planet too by fostering a culture of sharing and only using what you need, when you need it. 

Would you consider getting onto your bike as a lifestyle choice if the infrastructure is in place?


URBAN APPETITE

South Africans have however been taking the hint in other fields, such as urban agriculture and are now joining the revolution, but it is still in its infant stage. With urban farms already in place in Johannesburg, Cape Town and Durban.  “People have food security when they are able to grow enough food, or buy enough food, to meet their daily needs for an active, healthy life” states the UN Food and Agriculture Organisation. If that is the case, a measure of economic liberation must follow if a community can produce large quantities of it’s own food needs.  Why, then, have only three of South Africa’s major cities initiatives like this?  Apart from feeding a community, a urban garden can incorporate a community’s organic waste in the form of compost.  Eventually, according to www.urbanfarms.co.za, growing food where people live can reduce the carbon footprint by up to 90%. If “empty” spaces in cities, like rooftops, gardens and courtyards can be appropriated, the possibilities are inspiring, but as a community people will have to work together, and once again, take mutual responsibility.  This, however, asks of the members to share their time and energy. 

An urban vegetable garden in Johannesburg

 *

Internationally people are fast aligning themselves with a more holistic lifestyle, by sharing and using what they need only when they need it.  That very same potential becomes so much more viable in South Africa where the concept of Ubuntu rings clear. Tapping into this spirit of partnership and responsibility, coupled with strong leadership and vision, the possibilities of economic and social development in a practical and envisioning manner, are endless.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

5 minute musings: Sri Lanka

Sri Lanka feels like the love child of Thailand and India and when you walk in the streets or next the Dutch-built canals, when you take the train or when you strike up a conversation with strangers you feel a familiarity settling over your bones, like you have been there before. The wind beckons you, it takes you back to long lost childhood memories, it drives you forward, making you believe in the potential of the moment.

To have a stranger call you off of the street into a little cafe is no strange occurrence in Sri-Lanka. Our stranger called us into his little cafe to taste “the best tea in Sri Lanka”, he said.  There it was: two little tables in front of a reed wall, dressed in their best floral table cloths. Four garden chairs stood with open arms, waiting to embrace our weary bodies. The fish venders’ calls, the noisy tuk-tuk’s, the screaming children’s laughs all came together as a back track to that moment. The rest of the afternoon is a blur of stories, but I will always remember the sweet tea that was served to us that afternoon.

The best way to explore Sri-Lanka is on a scooter.  After fighting down the price at our local front lawn scooter rental agency, we went road tripping for a day.  The suffocating humidity in the town becomes irrelevant as the wind lashes against your face and cool raindrops hit you every so often. Don’t be alarmed when you get honked at by every single scooter that passes you, that’s just how they say hello. There are little cafe’s on the road between the little towns - houses hiding under large green leaves selling samosas and Cream Sodas. Sitting at our table, minding our own business, we got called over once again. This time is was an old man selling fruits. Needless to say the avocado I bought from him was the best tasting avocado I have ever had.

On a road trip


That’s the thing about Sri Lanka, you have to let the wind and the people guide you through the country. You have to follow the voices beckoning you from across the road and the river and the train. I opened my ears, I just listened, and my tropical holiday turned into a tropical pilgrimage.

Friday, December 20, 2013

5 minute musings: Pet owners

In my journeys across the globe and through life I have come to many trivial conclusions, as one tends to do with the leisurely hours at your disposal in strange countries, for a mere 24 hours at a time.  Most of my conclusions and theories are spent on trying to make sense of these wild, wild animals that I serve and that you call homo sapiens. Lend me your patience as I try to demonstrate.  Apart from trying to determine someone's value as a person based on the types of shoes they travel in, I also believe that thanks to people’s relationship with pets you can make pretty gross guesses on whether you can trust them with watering the plants, feeding Heidi the hamster, or, well, your life secrets. 




If you do not heed to life’s little clues, you run the risk of ending up with proverbial dog excrement on the grassy knoll. So here goes: The first kind is the very obvious Animal Lover (of which there are sub-classifications, such as the overbearing ‘Coddler', the strict ‘Headmaster’, the wise ‘Gandalf’s’, and so the list carries on). They are an alright bunch, sure to help you move to your new apartment, strike up a conversation with strangers and read very smart books. Then there are the Animal Appreciators, who are just a politer version of the Animal Non-Lover (or A.N.L. And excuse the anagrammatical pun, but it fits), the latter of which should not be trusted. They are on the same level of scumminess as people who are always chirpy because they either never ask questions or just choose to ignore the issues. The ice caps are melting, people.  The last and noblest bunch of good, honest people is the Besotted-but-allergic Animal Lover (or B.A.A.L., surely worthy of this godlike association). This group is cursed to forever long for the love and affection of our four legged or feathered friends, watching from a distance. Yes, sometimes they’ll give in and with antihistamines on hand, they will bravely face the danger of petting the dog, letting the parrot rest on their shoulder or letting that furry kitten play ball and string with their hand. Oh the sweet revelry. But antihistamines are a costly addiction.






Not to blow my own horn, but I fall under this very worthy last category. So All I want for Christmas is my dog back, and maybe a box of super soft kleenex.

Happy holidays

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

'n Ode aan Sheila

In die strale wat vroeg smĂŽrens deur my venster kruip,
in die sonsakgebede wat blĂȘr deur die stede van die woestein waarin ek woon, 
in elke mislukte koffie,
tamatie en bokkaas toebroodjie 
en time tydskrif,
in die flikkerende liggies op die horison 
en in die tale van babel 
en in vreemde oseane 
en in die lagtrane van die kinders aanboord, 
oral soek ek jou. 

'n Mens is net 'n mens. 

Maar ek hoef maar net my oĂ« te sluit 
en ek vind jou in ons berghuis met twee koppies tee,
ek vind jou op die stasie in pels en sigaretrook, 
ek vind jou met jou rug teen 'n warm ruit, 
ek vind op rotse waar die wind waai. 

Jy loop saam met my in die strate van Barcelona, 
Jy lag saam met my vir die straatkunstenaars in Dusseldorf,
Jy sit langs my op die trein in Bangkok,
Jy eet saam met my vars kersies in Londen,
Jy ry saam met my in die taxi in Dubai, 
Jy slaap langs my in die meerpark in Hamburg, 
Jy eet saam met my tapas in Madrid,
Jy praat saam met my Afrikaans in Nederland,
Jy swem saam met my in die blou poele van Mauritius. 

Ek pak jou hart in my tas 
tussen sagte katoen rokke 
en kiekies van die kaap. 

Jy is hier en ek is daar. 
Jy loop altyd langs my, Sheilie.
Ek vergeet jou nooit nie, 
want hoe vergeet mens 'n deel van jouself

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Nostalgie in September

My drome is sopas terug van die droogskoonmakers
op hierdie sombere Sondagoggend
waar die son treur in lang slap skaduwees
wat spruit uit die wortels van bome en voete.

Tortels weeklaag jou lepel
wat onlangs heel terloops sy weg na die dak gevind het.
Ek was nog nooit lief vir tafel maniere nie (fok jou Emsie Schoeman).

Die vrou in die straat se rooi rok koggel my,
Ek onthou oopgebarste granate in skemerings op jou ouma se plaas
en honde wat die sap van ons ellemboë lek.

5 minute musings: The strange thing about compliments

I knew this guy once. Smart as a whip. Reckless. Strange-looking. He intimidated me in ways I reserve for the holy men of religions - inexplicable, powerful and frustrating. It was his birthday on the day I (finally) met him after a long social media friendship. I bought him a tequila and pretended that we are old friends.

Years later I saw him again. He was with friends. "This is Frederika. She is the smartest girl I know and probably the smartest girl you'll ever know", he introduced me. I was falling with my bike for the first time. Did I feel flattered? Yes. Do I repeat his words in my head whenever I feel self-indulgent? Yes. Does he still have that strange power over me? Can he still make me listen without even calling my name or attention? No. He ruined his own glow. He became mortal. He stepped on his halo like newly-wed Greek men tend to mistreat their mothers' crockery.

That is the strange thing about well-intended compliments by these men - they invite you onto the pedestal. All of a sudden we are equals by their own permission on the only level that no societal norm can take away from you. Whether founded or proven or not at all, we are suddenly staring each other right in the eye.

That is the strange thing about compliments.

Werp jou skulpe op die see

Streel die rug van die rots en
voel hoe sy stories jou vingers kielie.
Moenie lag nie, luister.

Luister na hoe die langafstand-gesprekke
stotter deur gekonnekteerde lug,
soos die snikke van vaag-bekende begrafnisgangers,
op hierdie snikhete dag.

In die steriele kamer van die leë stad le my lyf langs stories wat ek hoor, maar nie verstaan nie.

Dis die kaalte van die vlaktes en
die ongenaakbare son wat my verdruk.
Die aandwind bring nuwe asem en nuwe stories.

Luister na die fluisterstemme in die skulpe. Fluister terug; as jy nou moet.

Onthou jy die gedigte van Breytenbach,
op bankies wat tuis sou lyk voor 'n kerk?
Die plankies is sedelik vasgetimmer en met 'n kuise blou tot onder die ken gekleu(r).
Ek is seker daardie blou moes baie boude se stories aanhoor.
Die boude sou die blou nooit vergeef,
as dit maar net kon praat.

Ek werp my skulpe op die see.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Die sondes van kees

My vingers is die veskrompelde penisse van ou mans,
op soek na 'n laaste bietjie opwinding krap hulle in sakke,
vat en los soos die lis kwyn en swel.

Is ek so ou soos my tande, of so oud soos my hande?

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Neonlig in Afrika

Jan van Riebeek het in sout geweek,
soos 'n sardien of styfbeen-bokkom,
met al sy trawante aan land gekom.

Hulle het geskop, geskiet en gemoer
en beskawing gesaai van die voet van die berg tot daar doer
waar 'n meisie met kraal en doek vergeefs na die liefde soek.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Reis na Mekka

Daar's 'n plek waar ek wil wees,
sonder sondes, sonder vrees,
waar die son sak soos 'n muntstuk in 'n boemelaar se beursie,
terwyl vriende dans met messe in hulle hande.

Die onderste-bo koppie met sy voete in die hemel en hande in die hel

Sunday, January 15, 2012

"Boe" sĂȘ die spook

Tussen wysheid en waansin
is daar 'n oomblik van wit stilte wanneer
jy die spoke kan hoor sĂȘ: "hallo"

Friday, January 6, 2012

5 minute musings: P.A.D. - Post Avontoer Depression

Al that is left of one of the greatest experiences of my life, is a white, untanned strip on my left arm where my Avontoer entrance bracelet use to be.  And of course all the memories and kiekies

What is Avontoer? Well, it is only the most awesome-est week long rock 'n roll tour all along the western coast of South Africa, that can never be topped.  I understand that the people who went to the shows had a great time, but touring along through rain, mud, sunshine and dodgy bath rooms is, without a doubt in my mind, one of the greatest learning curves you can ever force yourself into.  We toured with Van Coke Kartel, Holiday Murray, New Holland, Zinkplaat, Die Tuindwergies, No One's Ark, Loveglove Pyrotechnics and The Friendly Lemons. 

Francois van Coke was basically devoured by the Tassies-induced crowd at Struisbaai.  The Seerowers basically destroyed the stage every time New Holland called them onto stage with Shine on.  Holiday Murray drew a tear with The sea finds me and only confirmed why they are my favorite band of 2011.  Die Tuindwergies made folk-country (yah, I know right) something I would actually recommend - above and beyond their music, I recommend their live performances, though.  Zinkplaat is the embodiment of the tour (many of the band members are closely involved in the organisation of Avontoer).  Keep an eye out for No One's Arc and The Friendly Lemons, they might be new, but their appeal is as unexpected as it is overpowering.  Yet another young band, The December Streets, also showed that Pretoria has another wave of rock 'n roll based on those youngsters taking over the scene and it's building to Tsunami-proportions.  Last, but no way in hell the least, I have to mention Loveglove Pyrotechnics.  Once you get over the initial shock of "what the fuck!", their tunes start singin' for themselves and you sigh of relieve - pure rock and roll:  The kind that makes you want to fist-pump, nod your head and throw your rock horns in the air.  I personally can't wait for them to visit Pretoria!


So, after having to listen to all these bands for two weeks, here are some songs you need to start learning:

Holiday Murray (on Soundcloud):

Loveglove Pyrotechnics (on Facebook), especially (on band page) Hot to the power of, Firewood and Devil's Guise.



Also, I got to practice my iphonography skills: 

Look.  Enjoy.  Be jealous.  Join us next year.
The very first/last morning

Almost Famous

Makin' music, makin' movies, fighting around the world

'n Groot brak

Bokkoms

Langebaan sunset

Dawie slaap 'n dwerg uit 'n bos
home & servants

silence before the storm

Hermanus

"musiek is die verslawing wat ons almal sal oorleef"

brrr

Avontoer was hier

Ahrrr!











 And just to show that Seerowers aren't talentless tag-a-long's, here is a slyly recorded video:


'Till next time,
Frederika



 

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Jy moes geloop het toe dit nog lekker was

Hier staar ek nou
              na die niks
              net om uiteindelik te weet (nie te aanvaar nie, maar te weet):
Jy sal nie bel nie

 *

As die deur agter jou toegemaak is,
lĂȘ daar 'n magdom potte en panne en skerwe om gewas te word 
(alles nog van vanmiddag se soet pannekoek en bittersoet drome)

Ek vermy die niks van daar waar jy net vanmiddag nog gesit het
en blaai deur die boeke wat jy hier gelos het,
lusteloos.

Alleen.

(en steeds klou jou lyfreuk aan my klere, kussing, kombers)

*

Miriam Makeba sing in die agtergrond

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Reisjoernaal

En soos die son sak rek die skadu's al langer totdat daar uiteindelik niks
is nie en al wat oorbly is ek,
alleen
in die donker en in myself gekeer besig om te vra "wat nou?".

Dis in skemer oomblikke soos hierdie wat ek jou verlang en onthou hoe onskuldig jy was,
soos oggendmis.
Maar niks kan die felheid van die son weerstaan nie en

wanneer donker na ure se heimlike smeekbede
aanbreek, is dit 'n spokelag wat my tart
en ek word gekoggel
deur die hitte wat om my uitsypel na die niks waarbinne ek my bevind.


Jy het op vakansie gegaan en nooit weer terug gekom nie.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

requiem

ou woorde klou aan my soos klitsgras
jou woorde klou aan my soos klitsgras
vlou woorde klou aan my soos klitsgras
rou woorde klou aan my soos klitsgras

stadig sak die son agter die horison en die lang skadus kruip tot binne my gemoed

Monday, August 1, 2011

Gemiddeldheid word gemaklik

Ek is kaal van naiwiteit,
bloed drup van my vingers.
My Bybel le met sy kop in die sand,
my bra brand saam my drome aan die wasgoeddraad.

Ek is die wind se kind:
Die krysende kraai aanbid my,
maar vlieg is overrated.

Monday, July 25, 2011

woord-kiekie

Die horlosie roep: "encore" vir die spoke,
sterre verskiet onder die brug.
En dan, terwyl jy vertel van niks en alles
pleeg die gode 'n reendans

Thursday, July 21, 2011

hypothermia

Body numb, mind racing.
Like a marching band winter is pacing through my day,
stomping on the sunshine,
halting and altering the beat in my veins.