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Do you know that feeling of awakening at 3am?  Ah yes, we all know that too well, that sudden knowledge that a loud noise has awakened you - the sound of a car starting, the sound of a gun shot, the sound of a scream, the sound of police sirens blaring, dogs barking, the alarm on the front gate triggered by someone opening it, the outside security lights blazing because of movement outside, the security alarm blaring.  These were the daily realities of living in a wealthy “white” suburb on the fringe of Cape Town.  To sleep soundly at night, one needed to be surrounded by all these security alarms (and companies that work 24 hours in order to monitor them), and to have alarms on the gate (why would someone open our gate at 3am, I frequently asked myself), movement sensor lights on the house.  Was that our car starting, is someone stealing it?  All too often it was not our house waking us, but rather the sounds of the neighborhood, where there were frequent sounds of screaming, dogs barking and gun shots.  Followed, of course, by the police sirens (sometimes!).  If this was life in a “wealthy” suburb, can you imagine what a life, in one of the tin shanty townships outside the city, would be like?

We moved to a small country farming community about one hour from Cape Town, in the midst of the Swartland wheat and wine region, Riebeek Kasteel.  Although we were one of the few English speaking families in the town, life was paradise there, we didn’t lock our doors at night, frequently did not even close them and there were no high fences or security alarms, just two gorgeous large Belgian Shepherds for company. 

The biggest crime in the area was the occasional burglary of one of our neighbor’s homes – she would go to visit her daughter up north and the “locals” would break into her home, raid her freezer and then proceed to cook the food in her microwave and eat it there.  This was a source of amusement for the townsfolk and was not seen as a real threat of any kind.  The police station closed at 4pm and the only crime after that was mainly our noisy neighbor having an occasional party. 

I drove to Cape Town each day to work and then home again, a distance of some 180km daily.  The roads closer to the city were more dangerous, in the sense of crime, one would not drive with a purse or cellphone visible as you might have your window smashed.  And of course stopping at red lights in the city, one would be cautious in case of being surrounded by people, who would be looking to make easy money of one kind or another.  I had to walk every day to and from  a derelict parking area behind my building, at 8am I would arrive and 4pm I would leave.  To do this, you would be scanning, checking all around in case of people walking too close to you, watching you too carefully, following you too strictly.  Have you ever walked to your car carrying your car keys with the keys separately woven in between your fingers, points protruding so that, if attacked, you could use them as a weapon?  Do you check underneath your car as someone may be hiding there and waiting for you?  Do you check, through the windows, the inside of the car and in the back seat, before opening up, in case someone is inside and lying in wait?   We were trained to think like that from an early age.
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Olive farm in South Africa

Even in small country towns, things have changed.  Prior to our leaving Riebeek Kasteel, there were gangs from the townships near Cape Town (a 2 hour drive) coming into the village at night to steal cars.  So, yet again, that breeze rustling through the leaves at 3am awakens one.  Is it a breeze or is it someone treading outside?  Why have the dogs not reacted?  Given the amount of gall needed to travel a 2 hour distance (4 hours both ways) along a highway with not much getaway space, it’s a small stretch of the imagination to visualise these criminals arriving in the stillness of night - to murder your family and steal all your possessions, including cars, and be safely home before anyone in the village awakens the next morning.  As a mother, when one begins to experience the world through a child’s eyes, things look different.  Despite the problems, I had always been vehemently opposed to leaving South Africa for any reason.  This changed after the birth of my daughter.  Especially since this coincided with the rape statistics beginning to include the horrifying incidents of “baby rape”.  It can become extremely complicated, when your simple trip to the grocery store includes two small children – 8 months and 3 years.  You are accosted by at least 3 or 4 people (children / youths mainly) who are asking for money, for a job, for a cigarette etc.  You now have to watch both of your children, your cart, your cellphone, your purse, and your front, back and sides and keep your keys woven between your fingers, knowing that if anyone put a knife in your side, you would give them your purse or your car in order to keep your child safe.  All of these things flash through your mind as you leave the store.  Is this a way to live?  On reaching the car, you have 4 pairs of hands trying to help with unpacking your groceries while you try to check the car, open the car, close the trunk, strap the children into their seats and meanwhile be alert for any other possible threat.  And yet you feel immensely sympathetic to these lost people who have no safety or future to speak of!

To begin to think about future education for your children is to realize the falling standards, lack of resources, overwhelming bureaucracy and reverse “racism” that is practiced in the education system in South Africa today.   And the lack of interest in making it better.  People say that private education is the way to go, but so few people can afford that, and it is the educational equivalent of closeting yourself behind the electrified fences and security alarms.  It fixes the symptoms and not the cause.
 

We decided that we didn’t want this future for my children.  So we left, didn’t pack much at all, gave most of it away and took our essentials – some CD’s, books, bed linen, kilims and a few much loved toys.  It was, and remains, a tremendously freeing experience, to let go of all the “stuff” that we humans are prone to accumulate.  I eventually realized that I could condense my necessities into a backpack.  Many people told us that they could never do what we did – they had too much.  For me, the “stuff” was easy, the beloved animals, my garden, the mountains, the climate, the people and the scenery, was extremely hard. America, the land of opportunity.  It has been a nearly 2-year struggle to survive and build a new life and a new business.  And of course a re-accumulation of stuff.  I do things differently nowadays – I have learned to do my own housework, iron my own clothes, clip coupons, and buy at the Salvation Army and Goodwill.

Agricultural fields in Riebeek Kasteel

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And in-between, although I speak the English language, I battle to understand and be understood – I remain a cultural alien.  I have learned to appreciate the small things, the little moments. The friendly clerk at the post office, the kind and helpful staff at my local library, the yoga and Pilates classes that keep me balanced and centered.  The bank manager who, along with her staff, makes me feel like I am at home whenever I am in the branch.

I miss the land of my birth,  but I am able to recognize that this ambivalence will always be present in me.  My children will never know the wonderful cross-cultural mix that is South Africa today.  The payoff is a life where I sleep soundly at night, I don’t fear being raped or hijacked or murdered.  I don’t fear for my children any longer, they are safe and happy; they have great educational opportunities here.  They are young enough to integrate properly. 

And I, I will always be split in two – did I make the right decision?  And I will ever have a life that straddles the ocean – a foot on each continent.  I will not ever be completely whole again.

But I have gained immense rewards, mainly a sense of humor and perspective.  Viktor Frankl said "We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms - to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances - to choose one's own way." And though it seems tough, I remind myself almost daily that there are many who survive, thrive and rise above far more difficult circumstances.  I chose this, I will do my best in each and every day and I will not look back with regret and wonder.  I have learned to appreciate the adventure and not to focus on the material accumulation – or lack thereof. 

Yes, it is one of the most beautiful areas of the world and I do believe that given time the problems will be resolved. The country felt more stable and more positive under Mr Nelson Mandela – I fear that it is regressing under Mr Mbeki.  Mr Trevor Manuel, the Minister of Finance, is doing a sterling job of managing the economic future of South Africa. This is not enough if the government is going to drive investors away with their general mismanagement of the country. 

Sure life is cheap there, in more ways than one!  And for foreigners, the climate, the scenery, the people and the opportunities available must seem boundless.  However,  I feel that if one considers relocating a family or business, one has to know and be prepared for the reality of life in the country that has the highest murder, rape and AIDS statistics in the world.  Were the crime alone resolved, I know of South Africans who would return in droves to re-establish themselves and their businesses there.  I would love to return and take my children back to experience their culture and live the reality of it.

To contact Bronwyn Click Here
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