Een somer vakansie.
Familie, tent, kampeer, reën. Baie reën.
Toe kom die son. Genadeloos. Alles droog voor jou oë op, hoe is dit moontlik? Stof dwarrel weer rond terwyl die water nog die grond ingeslurp word.
Later in die dag: ons loop 'n stuk die veld in. Niks karre nie, niks vliegtuie nie, niks mense nie.
Net ons en die sonbesies.
Snaaks, so aanwesig as wat die sonbesies was, het ons nie één gesien nie.
Eers nog, praat ons onder mekaar. Langsaam aan word ons stil en loop ons elkeen omhul met 'n ondeurdringbare kombers van snerpende sonbesie mannetjies tot hemel en aarde saamsmelt in één muur van geluid.
Verstand staan stil. Ons stop met loop, gaan sit op 'n stoffige heuweltjie.
En sit. So alleen in die veld met daardie geluid wat 'n mens totaal isoleer van die wêreld. Die geluid druk op jou kop asof dit vorm het. Die grond is warm, bloedwarm en daar is stof in die lug.
Na 'n uur of twee loop ons terug na die tent toe.
Stil, asof ons gestroop is tot ons basis en gebad in 'n suiverende lig.
Goed geslaap, daardie nag. Volgende dag het ons vroeg opgepak en verder gery.
Die plek agtergelaat asof dit niks was.
Maar byna 40 jaar later dink ek nog steeds aan daardie verlate plek. En dan hoor ek nog steeds daardie geluid in my kop.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
District Six
My dad took me with him one day when I was very young, to District Six. He had business there or had to see someone, I don't recall why. I do remember him leaving me in the car and telling me to keep the doors locked and stay in the car, it was dangerous here.
I recall being scared all on my own for a little while and then interest took over.
Many people on the street, many chattering voices, screeches of laughter. Lots of movement, people of all ages, shapes and sizes. I did not feel scared any more, so I cranked open the window.
To this day I don't remember the details of the place as sharply as I remember the smells. The indefinable mix of rich Malay cooking and many people in a small area. I loved it, I wanted to go out exploring but my dad's warning held me in the car, leaning out through the open window and looking goggle-eyed at the world, big old Table Mountain standing solidly in the background.
One other thing aside from the smell, the sounds and busy movement of people, was the powder blue colour of a house along the street. Though the other houses were probably also all colours I only remember that one. I thought the house was pretty and had I been allowed to wander around, that's where I would have gone to.
Not too long after this, the area was forcibly emptied out, the people transplanted on a dusty plain miles away from anywhere, and the houses bulldozed. I did not understand any of this and was upset when I saw it. I seem to remember a church that was not mowed down with the rest of the houses for many years, standing deserted and lonely in an area of nothing. And then, one day, it was gone too.
It was a shameful thing. I have only these few bright memories like postcards in my mind. I wish there were more but that's all I can dredge up: the sun was shining. Colour, movement, open-mouthed head back laughter, teasing and running kids, and oh that smell that glorious smell.
I recall being scared all on my own for a little while and then interest took over.
Many people on the street, many chattering voices, screeches of laughter. Lots of movement, people of all ages, shapes and sizes. I did not feel scared any more, so I cranked open the window.
To this day I don't remember the details of the place as sharply as I remember the smells. The indefinable mix of rich Malay cooking and many people in a small area. I loved it, I wanted to go out exploring but my dad's warning held me in the car, leaning out through the open window and looking goggle-eyed at the world, big old Table Mountain standing solidly in the background.
One other thing aside from the smell, the sounds and busy movement of people, was the powder blue colour of a house along the street. Though the other houses were probably also all colours I only remember that one. I thought the house was pretty and had I been allowed to wander around, that's where I would have gone to.
Not too long after this, the area was forcibly emptied out, the people transplanted on a dusty plain miles away from anywhere, and the houses bulldozed. I did not understand any of this and was upset when I saw it. I seem to remember a church that was not mowed down with the rest of the houses for many years, standing deserted and lonely in an area of nothing. And then, one day, it was gone too.
It was a shameful thing. I have only these few bright memories like postcards in my mind. I wish there were more but that's all I can dredge up: the sun was shining. Colour, movement, open-mouthed head back laughter, teasing and running kids, and oh that smell that glorious smell.
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