Oh Heavens We're Here!
0 Comments Published by Oh Wayward One on 08 January 2007 at 1/08/2007 04:29:00 pm.
OK so obviously I’ve lost a couple weeks. The last week in Ireland I wasn’t getting much time to write stuff, and then it was all downhill from there. Basically the 10 days (or whatever it was) at the inlaws was a complete bollocks-fest, and then finally we flew out on the 3rd from Amsterdam – London – Johannesburg. Rented a car, raced up to the P’s house for 2 whole days, dropped by the puppies a couple times (sigh, sniff, sniff) and then today off it was to our new life across the border in BW. So here I am, trying to recap. I just don’t know where to begin, but maybe just working backwards would help?
Right, so I’m sitting here on our mate Bernard’s stoop, my darling husband (who gets better looking with each major life change we make) sitting next to me, reading away. We landed in Gaborone about a half-hour ago, and T. was there to pick us up and whisk us off to Gabane (where he and L. live next door to Bernard, out here in the bush, just on the outside of the city). So since B is still back in the UK til the 14th, we get his little houseie to live in, til we get our keys to our place on either the 10th or the 12th.
Within 15 minutes of arrival, I’d seen 3 baboons wandering around, one walking right up the driveway. T. went off to the shop and to pick L. up, and so we’re just sitting happy happy out here, relaxing til they return. I’m having a real Mma Ramotswe moment just sitting in the sun, drinking a cup of beer (would’ve been bush tea but the electricity is out), listening to the cow bells off in the distance and watching a chameleon or lizard of some type, run around on the rocks by my feet. The mr. just spotted the biggest monkey he ever saw, creeping around the side of the house. The breeze is blowing and the birds are chattering away and I’m home. That’s how it feels.
The flight from joburg to gabz was awesome. It’s only 40 minutes, and literally UP + DOWN. Since we flew SAA, it was pretty luxury too, compared to the budget airlines (crap) we got used to in Europe. Hell they even gave us a sandwich.
The 2 days with the P’s were lekker as usual. I really feel like I’m home when I’m there. As much as it probably drives my mother insane in the membrane, N. will always be my beloved Ma, and L. will always be my Pa. First day was just spent relaxing and visiting the pups, with a nice braai at night with Glen, Rhoda, & some Canadians which we turned in early from, as we were exhausted. 2nd day started with a swim in the pool and another trip to the pups, lunch at Mimmos and a relaxing evening at home just the P’s and us. I was so happy to introduce them to the puppies yesterday… it was like the babies finally meeting gran & grandpa for the first time and they all loved each other. It was so hard to leave them behind in the kennel though, albeit for only a few more days.
Right, so there was our 2 days back in SA. I suppose this brings us back to NL. UGH.
OK so that trip just scarred both of us for life. The long-story-short version is that we’re never going back there again for xmas, and the next time that we DO end up back there (4 yrs? 5 yrs?) because we have to, we’re staying outside at LEAST a 3km radius from the farm.
My baby felt awkward and uncomfortable in his own home, we purposely avoided people the whole time, and purposefully got up every morning (AFTER we heard all the voices from around the family table disappear), hopped on the bikes, and rode off into the freezing rain and wind just for the sake of being OUT of there. Returning at night as late as possible after having done every possible activity in Gaasterland humanly possible (including making housecalls to people we don’t even LIKE) just to stay away from the hell farm. The hell farm. Where the hell and turmoil of tomorrow is harvested.
Why all the negativity? Oh gawd, where to begin.
Sleeping in the mom&dad’s bed? Yeah ok that’s not so bad unless you know that not only were all 6 children conceived in it, but they were literally all BIRTHED in it as well. Has the mattress been changed? Uhhhhh NOPE.
The layer of dust 3 inches thick that lines the entire bedroom? Nah, not so bad, just disgusting. The shag carpet that has been in the home since 1976? Not so bad, just gross. The completely cluttered and bad-feng-shuiness in general of the house? Forgivable, hell it aint my house, but really REALLY uncomfortable. It’s like walking into a museum, seriously. A museum of trashy trash-ness. We’re talking 29-year old stickers stuck to the wall and never scraped off. Peeling wallpaper from 1971. Did I mention the 30-year old shag carpet that has NEVER been steamcleaned? Whatever. Again, not my house, so none of my business, but just uncomfortable in general.
So really, why the bitching again? Oh how about the total anti-social dynamic breeding and festering inside it. The hatred of me and my baby, which is so obvious it’s like 40 10-tonne elephants stampeding through the room. The complete un-acceptance of our lifestyle and total dis-interest in either of our happiness. The complete resentment that the Mr. isn’t the farmboy he was programmed and indoctrinated to be, the sheer disgust that I’m not a Frisian dairy farmer’s daughter, and overall just a lack of affection and love that we were under the impression was SUPPOSED to abound anywhere called “home”.
The family “clicque” that involves every last brother & sister except for the Mr. The inside jokes, the whispers around the table, the total and utter exclusion of him from “the gang”, mainly as sheer punishment for having the nerve to break away from them. The dirty looks every time we emerge from our vacation-sleep after 9am in the morning. Did I mention just good old fashioned resentment in general?
Thank god we had good books.
I started AND finished “Marley and Me” in the 10 days. Lots of reading and just simply trying to ignore these freaks. Sometimes there was no escaping it. Oh and how about xmas day? We come downstairs to a cold and anti-xmas house without a single jingle bell. No presents under the tree, not even a “merry xmas” to be uttered. OK yes they boycott xmas on the basis that they are too religious to accept a present-giving holiday on the birth of the Christ child. But a simple acknowledgement of OUR culture (and I say that as part of a 2-person family who DOES xmas) would’ve been social. Sandwiches for dinner, and I was nearly in tears. The highlight of the day was calling MY PARENTS. Gross!! Hell at least we felt like it was xmas for 25 minutes.
As an introductory side note, we both got seriously terrible colds the day we landed. After some intense water-drinking-therapy the sickness left us on the day we left NL. Appropriate.
I have to appreciate my 2nd SIL though. The day after xmas, she made a huge dinner. We exchanged presents for Sinterklaas about 3 days later. Don’t even get me started on what happened then. I just don’t even care to record the events. Put it this way, poems were written, and resentment was expressed. It was put RIGHT out there. From many different sides. Unreal.
What else. Well there were some positives. Of course they all happened while we were in exile from the house. I’m getting tired of writing so maybe I’ll just list.
*Dinner at Zeven Wouden in Sloten after a long icy bike ride, and before a nice visit with christiaan and susan.
*My baby’s present to me: Little Britain boxed set + perfume + new Ferrari ball cap.
*New Years eve with our real friends… René & Evelien, Christiaan & Susan, Pieter. Hanging around at C’s dad’s place til 4am then off to the pub til 6:30. Great night, even when I have to speak dutch after 100 drinks.
*Coffee
*Trip to a really incredible asian show garden on xmas day. More amazing orchids than I have ever seen in my life under one roof.
*Feeling the bond between myself and the Mr. grow stronger than ever as we come to realize that our real family consists of 2 people. And 3 dogs.
*Meeting some of our good friends’ babies for the first time.
Other tidbits of news and useless info:
Saw the plot of land ass-kisser BIL is building house on for himself, wife, and baby+ baby on the way… literally 20m from mommy’s kitchen window. Right in front of the manure fermenter. Can you say “stink” and “zero privacy”? Good luck, SIL, you’re gonna need it. You’re about to be sucked into the vortex of………. Well, you get the idea.
Given the fact that there are SIX children and an unreasonable amount of people passing through these doors every day, cuts on quality are made around every corner. Take toilet paper, for example. Ever used an American paper sack (a la grocery store) to wipe your ass with? Oh yeah…. And the one bathroom for nearly 8 people. Mmmm, clean.
I suppose one of the most unnerving things was the whole obsessive-family-clique mentality that just never ceases to amaze an independent chick like myself. I won’t even go into it, it’s just too hard to verbalize.
Right I just don’t know what else to say because now it doesn’t seem worth it. But I am glad we’re never going back. Suck-ass BIL will probably have 9 kids by the time we are back, and that’s great. We won’t have to stay with ‘em. Rock on.
So now begins our new life in Botswana. No looking back. I have to say as we touched down in Joburg a couple days ago, I felt like I was home. Also amazing enough, I only then realized it was exactly 7 years to the WEEK, that I first touched down at that same airport for the first time ever. I was nervy that time… thinking to myself “what the hell have I gone and done. I’ve moved to Africa”. This time however, it was more like being reunited with paradise. Not even a care in the world. And that’s all I can type at the moment ‘cuz now T. is back and we gotta get this party started.
Right, so I’m sitting here on our mate Bernard’s stoop, my darling husband (who gets better looking with each major life change we make) sitting next to me, reading away. We landed in Gaborone about a half-hour ago, and T. was there to pick us up and whisk us off to Gabane (where he and L. live next door to Bernard, out here in the bush, just on the outside of the city). So since B is still back in the UK til the 14th, we get his little houseie to live in, til we get our keys to our place on either the 10th or the 12th.
Within 15 minutes of arrival, I’d seen 3 baboons wandering around, one walking right up the driveway. T. went off to the shop and to pick L. up, and so we’re just sitting happy happy out here, relaxing til they return. I’m having a real Mma Ramotswe moment just sitting in the sun, drinking a cup of beer (would’ve been bush tea but the electricity is out), listening to the cow bells off in the distance and watching a chameleon or lizard of some type, run around on the rocks by my feet. The mr. just spotted the biggest monkey he ever saw, creeping around the side of the house. The breeze is blowing and the birds are chattering away and I’m home. That’s how it feels.
The flight from joburg to gabz was awesome. It’s only 40 minutes, and literally UP + DOWN. Since we flew SAA, it was pretty luxury too, compared to the budget airlines (crap) we got used to in Europe. Hell they even gave us a sandwich.
The 2 days with the P’s were lekker as usual. I really feel like I’m home when I’m there. As much as it probably drives my mother insane in the membrane, N. will always be my beloved Ma, and L. will always be my Pa. First day was just spent relaxing and visiting the pups, with a nice braai at night with Glen, Rhoda, & some Canadians which we turned in early from, as we were exhausted. 2nd day started with a swim in the pool and another trip to the pups, lunch at Mimmos and a relaxing evening at home just the P’s and us. I was so happy to introduce them to the puppies yesterday… it was like the babies finally meeting gran & grandpa for the first time and they all loved each other. It was so hard to leave them behind in the kennel though, albeit for only a few more days.
Right, so there was our 2 days back in SA. I suppose this brings us back to NL. UGH.
OK so that trip just scarred both of us for life. The long-story-short version is that we’re never going back there again for xmas, and the next time that we DO end up back there (4 yrs? 5 yrs?) because we have to, we’re staying outside at LEAST a 3km radius from the farm.
My baby felt awkward and uncomfortable in his own home, we purposely avoided people the whole time, and purposefully got up every morning (AFTER we heard all the voices from around the family table disappear), hopped on the bikes, and rode off into the freezing rain and wind just for the sake of being OUT of there. Returning at night as late as possible after having done every possible activity in Gaasterland humanly possible (including making housecalls to people we don’t even LIKE) just to stay away from the hell farm. The hell farm. Where the hell and turmoil of tomorrow is harvested.
Why all the negativity? Oh gawd, where to begin.
Sleeping in the mom&dad’s bed? Yeah ok that’s not so bad unless you know that not only were all 6 children conceived in it, but they were literally all BIRTHED in it as well. Has the mattress been changed? Uhhhhh NOPE.
The layer of dust 3 inches thick that lines the entire bedroom? Nah, not so bad, just disgusting. The shag carpet that has been in the home since 1976? Not so bad, just gross. The completely cluttered and bad-feng-shuiness in general of the house? Forgivable, hell it aint my house, but really REALLY uncomfortable. It’s like walking into a museum, seriously. A museum of trashy trash-ness. We’re talking 29-year old stickers stuck to the wall and never scraped off. Peeling wallpaper from 1971. Did I mention the 30-year old shag carpet that has NEVER been steamcleaned? Whatever. Again, not my house, so none of my business, but just uncomfortable in general.
So really, why the bitching again? Oh how about the total anti-social dynamic breeding and festering inside it. The hatred of me and my baby, which is so obvious it’s like 40 10-tonne elephants stampeding through the room. The complete un-acceptance of our lifestyle and total dis-interest in either of our happiness. The complete resentment that the Mr. isn’t the farmboy he was programmed and indoctrinated to be, the sheer disgust that I’m not a Frisian dairy farmer’s daughter, and overall just a lack of affection and love that we were under the impression was SUPPOSED to abound anywhere called “home”.
The family “clicque” that involves every last brother & sister except for the Mr. The inside jokes, the whispers around the table, the total and utter exclusion of him from “the gang”, mainly as sheer punishment for having the nerve to break away from them. The dirty looks every time we emerge from our vacation-sleep after 9am in the morning. Did I mention just good old fashioned resentment in general?
Thank god we had good books.
I started AND finished “Marley and Me” in the 10 days. Lots of reading and just simply trying to ignore these freaks. Sometimes there was no escaping it. Oh and how about xmas day? We come downstairs to a cold and anti-xmas house without a single jingle bell. No presents under the tree, not even a “merry xmas” to be uttered. OK yes they boycott xmas on the basis that they are too religious to accept a present-giving holiday on the birth of the Christ child. But a simple acknowledgement of OUR culture (and I say that as part of a 2-person family who DOES xmas) would’ve been social. Sandwiches for dinner, and I was nearly in tears. The highlight of the day was calling MY PARENTS. Gross!! Hell at least we felt like it was xmas for 25 minutes.
As an introductory side note, we both got seriously terrible colds the day we landed. After some intense water-drinking-therapy the sickness left us on the day we left NL. Appropriate.
I have to appreciate my 2nd SIL though. The day after xmas, she made a huge dinner. We exchanged presents for Sinterklaas about 3 days later. Don’t even get me started on what happened then. I just don’t even care to record the events. Put it this way, poems were written, and resentment was expressed. It was put RIGHT out there. From many different sides. Unreal.
What else. Well there were some positives. Of course they all happened while we were in exile from the house. I’m getting tired of writing so maybe I’ll just list.
*Dinner at Zeven Wouden in Sloten after a long icy bike ride, and before a nice visit with christiaan and susan.
*My baby’s present to me: Little Britain boxed set + perfume + new Ferrari ball cap.
*New Years eve with our real friends… René & Evelien, Christiaan & Susan, Pieter. Hanging around at C’s dad’s place til 4am then off to the pub til 6:30. Great night, even when I have to speak dutch after 100 drinks.
*Coffee
*Trip to a really incredible asian show garden on xmas day. More amazing orchids than I have ever seen in my life under one roof.
*Feeling the bond between myself and the Mr. grow stronger than ever as we come to realize that our real family consists of 2 people. And 3 dogs.
*Meeting some of our good friends’ babies for the first time.
Other tidbits of news and useless info:
Saw the plot of land ass-kisser BIL is building house on for himself, wife, and baby+ baby on the way… literally 20m from mommy’s kitchen window. Right in front of the manure fermenter. Can you say “stink” and “zero privacy”? Good luck, SIL, you’re gonna need it. You’re about to be sucked into the vortex of………. Well, you get the idea.
Given the fact that there are SIX children and an unreasonable amount of people passing through these doors every day, cuts on quality are made around every corner. Take toilet paper, for example. Ever used an American paper sack (a la grocery store) to wipe your ass with? Oh yeah…. And the one bathroom for nearly 8 people. Mmmm, clean.
I suppose one of the most unnerving things was the whole obsessive-family-clique mentality that just never ceases to amaze an independent chick like myself. I won’t even go into it, it’s just too hard to verbalize.
Right I just don’t know what else to say because now it doesn’t seem worth it. But I am glad we’re never going back. Suck-ass BIL will probably have 9 kids by the time we are back, and that’s great. We won’t have to stay with ‘em. Rock on.
So now begins our new life in Botswana. No looking back. I have to say as we touched down in Joburg a couple days ago, I felt like I was home. Also amazing enough, I only then realized it was exactly 7 years to the WEEK, that I first touched down at that same airport for the first time ever. I was nervy that time… thinking to myself “what the hell have I gone and done. I’ve moved to Africa”. This time however, it was more like being reunited with paradise. Not even a care in the world. And that’s all I can type at the moment ‘cuz now T. is back and we gotta get this party started.
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