Freedom Beauty Truth

" To be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others " - Nelson Mandela. Domestic workers are such an assumed part of life in South Africa , that my refusal to have one seems strange and even selfish to some people. After all, how else will the millions of uneducated, even illiterate, especially among the older generation of black women in this country, find employment? Being a domestic worker, or ‘maid’ as old school South Africans still call them, is a good job, highly desired…so they say. But I have never felt comfortable with the idea. Firstly, I don’t see this as meaningful, rewarding or empowering employment – which is what we need more of in this country (and the world in general). But even putting aside this idealistic objection, the fact is that while people still have black women cleaning their houses, nothing has changed in this country. The domestic, social and economic spaces remain, as...

The ocean's salty breath caresses me as I step out of my cluttered little world of cabin-fever cats and unread books piled high (their shrill voices demanding attention even from the other side of the city)... I step out, and the big wide world greets me, the moody green ocean is eager to wrap me in salty embraces - "never mind all that...come and be with me, breathe deeply, I am already a part of you...remember..."

Those stupid, plastic-looking people in the posters on the wall of the "industry medical" doctors' office!! I can see them still, in my resentful mind's eye. Smiling down on me as I sat waiting for my "pre-employment" medical. Like some sort of work horse, in days gone by, having its teeth and legs checked for any health problems, defects..."Must get our money's worth from these little workers. Don't want any hassles or issues". The poster people are all perfect little workers, "professionals" - well groomed, smiling cheesy smiles, dressed according to their professions...and   vanilla.   So vanilla, so pastel, I want to puke. One's got a headset (call centre person, like I may be soon?) and another is typing away like a good little office amoeba. Erggg. And of course there's a man in a hard hat, and another...oh who cares - they are like clones of "the ideal system fodder" in various shades of pastel. Ergg...

Last week on the bus, I witnessed the driver losing his temper, quite spectacularly. So over-the-top, it seemed to me - but then I had no idea what the rest of his day, or his life, had been up to that point... A car tried to turn at the same time as the bus, by pushing its way into the far left lane - overtaking from the inside - and the bus driver cursed him loudly (through the door he had opened, to ensure all the other motorists and pedestrians could hear, and see his gestures). This went on for a few minutes, as all around us came to a stop to watch two grown men vent their frustrations on each other in this rather strange public display. I felt a bit sad about it all, but that didn't stop me feeling a bit amused, and judgemental, at the same time. yet how many times have I lost my temper, in situations that would seem ridiculous to a casual observer? Anyway, many buses later that day, I caught myself pushing in at the frantic semi-queue, which heaves and surges as...