Shenzhen: Dubious Dishes

I might live in "wild" Africa and thoroughly enjoy exploring all that nature has to offer in this - and other - countries, but I still prefer viewing a snake from behind its enclosed, sturdy, reinforced (yes, the more adjectives the better) glass cage, surrounded by numerous warning signs.
In China, it seems, you are more likely to find these slithering reptiles in your glass than behind glass.

Snakes in Oklahoma (2006)

When it comes to life and food, my motto is "try everything at least once", but occasionally, for the sake of survival, this rule has to be bent. 
In South Africa my What Not To Eat list includes licourice, mopanie worms, walkie talkies, smileys, tripe and the worst of all: Future Life cereal. I don't care if it now comes in strawberry and chocolate flavours. I don't care if it contains the 217th vitamin needed for longevity and a superior quality of life. I don't even care if Chad le Clos eats it every day, swimming goggles casually positioned around his neck at the breakfast table.

In China my What Not To Eat list has been vastly extended to include crawling, jumping, and sailing reptiles. You can apparently select your snake from a cage, after which it will be specially prepared to your liking. This process gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "pick your poison".

Combine the Chinese's lunchtime preferences of slippery snakes and colossal toads with their inability to communicate in English / my inability to converse in Mandarin and you are bound to turn every lunchtime outing into a Fear Factor extravaganza.
Every lunchtime I would saunter out to some or other Chinese Mall, pick a random Chinese restaurant (if there's a queue the food must be at least moderately appetising, right?) and try to order something edible. 

Chinese Mall

There is one prerequisite when selecting a restaurant: The menu must have pictures of the dishes. Otherwise the ordering process starts to resemble a circus spectacle - the role of the clown being played by the person who cannot speak the local tongue. Me.
This obstacle can be overcome if the dishes are displayed, but there is a risk that viewing the raw food will put you off eating altogether. For a week.

Interesting Meals

Once you have selected a suitable lunch establishment, do not under any circumstances peer into the kitchen when going to the restroom. Of course, the restroom is always positioned next to / on top of / basically inside the kitchen, making it virtually impossible to not see what's cooking. But for the sake of your sanity, try nonetheless. If you do catch a glimpse of the kitchen, be prepared to loose your appetite. Possibly for ever.

The ordering process usually consists of big hand gestures (you), a scattering of Mandarin (the waiter), a lot of pointing (you), followed by more pointing (the waiter) and a few alarmed and concerned facial expressions (the other customers). 
I would select a picture on the menu (please let it be chicken this time!) followed by one finger. And then I would wait and hope that I will be presented with 1 x Dubious Chicken Dish, instead of 1 x Human Finger.

If I am accompanied by another non-Mandarin speaking person, the process gets even trickier since the order would now consist of 1 x Dubious Chicken Dish + 1 x Dubious Beef-Noodle Ensemble. Try explaining that without using words.

"And two Tsingtao beers, please," we would try, thrusting two fingers in the air. Because surely Tsingtao stayed "Tsingtao", whether you are speaking English or Mandarin?
After several confused glances, more pointing and a rapid downpour of foreign words by a borderline frantic waiter, we concluded that it did not. So with our best charade-like gestures of "drinking" and "menu", we summoned the drinks menu and pointed to the Tsingtao.
"Ah! Tsingtao!" the waiter exclaimed.
"Yes! Tsingtao!" we bellowed and threw our hands in the air in exasperation. But, alas, the big hand gestures further confused the poor waiter and we had to start all over again. With the restaurant manager.

When the food arrived, one dish had an alarming number of resemblances to an illustration of a vertebrae in my high school Biology textbook. So I steered clear and apprehensively chose a safer option: a dumpling of sorts.
As I was taking my second bite of the surprisingly tasty dumpling, a local colleague walked past and we summoned him to join us for lunch.
"Great," he said and reached for one of the dumplings. "I love tripe."

Chicken..?

Dangerous Dumplings

Shenzhen: Trusting Your Taxi Driver

Life is a labyrinth. A twisted maze with delights and horrors lurking around every corner, waiting to expand our life experiences, develop our personality and grow our character. Every day we navigate our way through this maze, exploring and experiencing.
Travelling is the lamp which illuminates hidden tunnels and overgrown trapdoors in the labyrinth of life, leading you on paths you never knew existed.
It is on one of these concealed pathways, lit by my travel stint to China, that I discovered one of my deepest fears: The fear of taxi drivers.

I know all South Africans reading this will be rolling their eyes, thinking that you can discover this fear by merely taking a two-minute drive on the streets of Johannesburg - and save some time and money in the process. 
I'm not talking about the fear of taxis, which, as a peak-hour highway user in Johannesburg, I have encountered many moons ago (along with many other intense emotions towards these four-wheeled death traps). 
My newly exposed fear is the very real fear of the drivers of these vehicles.

Maybe it is due to cautionary childhood warnings that I should never "get into a stranger's car" - even if it has a colour TV in the back and Gangnam Style blaring from the speakers. Maybe it is my inner, paranoid South African voice, warning me of the many potential evils that could accompany an inconspicuous taxi ride (wasn't a taxi driver involved in the murder of Anni Dewani?).

I am quite content to use any other means of transportation in a new country and will happily travel by metro, bus, train, tram, cable-car or on foot. 
Think about it: By using one of these options most of the following variables are known:

• The departure point.
• The route (on foot, a few unscheduled detours might be included).
• The arrival point.
• The travel time.
• The cost.

When using a taxi, none of the above factors are predetermined! 
To catch a taxi driver's attention usually requires you to dart into oncoming traffic, waving your arms wildly and shouting "Taxi! Taxi!" at the top of your lungs. Only to realise that the taxi is already occupied and about to run you over. 
When a taxi miraculously does stop, at which point in your journey do you raise the alarm that the driver might be a psycho killer about to abduct you? Or worse, leave you stranded in a dodgy neighborhood, without enough money to get back to civilization?

In China, the whole frightening experience is heightened by the fact that your taxi driver does not speak English. Or understand English. Or even read English.
Before getting into a taxi, you therefore need to find an English-speaking, Mandarin-fluent, trustworthy saint to translate your destination into "龙华镇".

Chinese Taxi

It was on a rainy, misty afternoon that I had no other choice but to catch a taxi in peak-hour Shenzhen traffic. After a sigh and the necessary 30-minute arm-waving, shouting and shoving, a taxi finally stopped and I dove into the backseat. I breathlessly handed the taxi driver the card with my destination and he regarded the 布吉镇 thoughtfully. Dusk was falling fast and the greater evil at that stage was trudging along dark roads in a foreign, non-English speaking city. After a minute, in which I held my breath, he handed the card back and sped off like a bullet out of a gun. Which meant he knew where to go. Or at least, that was what I had told myself. I exhaled slowly and held on for dear life.

After twenty minutes of driving, the radio, TV and the driver's phone blaring in unison, he turned around and said something in Mandarin. I smiled, my heart beating in my chest, since whatever he said could have been either "Guess what? I am a psycho killer! Hehehe." or "Here we are!". Both messages were equally horrific news, since we most certainly had not arrived at my destination and night had fallen in the meantime.

I peered out the windows to see if I could recognise a landmark, but the misty clouds had enclosed everything that stretched more than five meters above the ground and all the tall, small-windowed buildings looked like they had been cloned. 
"No! No" I squealed to indicate my disagreement with either meaning of his sentence. Then, to add to the gloom, it started to rain.

The taxi slowed down as we turned a corner and then came to a complete stop while the driver said something else in Mandarin. Or he might have repeated his previous sentence. I shook my head and pointed to the buildings around me: "No! No!" 
Then, suddenly, I spotted my building though the mist, a few meters from where we stood . I pointed with a shaking finger, relief flooding though me. 
I had arrived. And could afford the taxi fare.

Needless to say, the next day I opted for the metro. But I quickly discovered what a French colleague meant when he said that "zee maps in China does not speek English." 
All the metro maps were in Mandarin.
Defeated, I headed back into the streets of Shenzhen and proceeded with the flailing of my arms. 

For now, I will have to trust my taxi driver and discover this part of my life's labyrinth from the backseat of his taxi.

Shenzhen Streets

Shenzhen: Parasols

I had been exploring the East, with it's heavy humid days, for the past few days and had arrived at the height of typhoon season. 
These tropical cyclones typically start in the South China Sea or Pacific Ocean, making the city of Shenzhen an ideal location for it to unleash all of its fury. This, of course, I had only found out after arriving in China. In high-devastation, typhoon-prone weather.

Shenzhen, China

Ominous Clouds

Then again, back in 2006, I had basically learned upon boarding the plane to Oklahoma, that tornadoes tend to frequent the Sooner state. So I was just going to have to hope for the best this time round too. And pack an umbrella, just in case.

Tornado Shelter in Oklahoma

I soon realised that a Chinese women's parasol was to her like a braaitang to a South African boerseun: Home is not left without it. Especially not when a hot and sunny day awaited.
Every morning, a kaleidoscope of colourful parasols lined up by the side of the road, floated to work, or assembled on park benches.

Pretty Parasols

Sunshine Day

Parasol stands are found outside every office or restaurant; including a lock and key to secure these prized possessions.

Parasol Stand

So far, the rain and wind have stayed away from Shenzhen, but it doesn't mean that my umbrella was not put to good use. In true Chinese fashion I have used it to ward off the gleaming sunlight everywhere I went. Had I not done so, I would have surely melted, disintegrated or evaporated from the heat.

Thank you, China, for learning me to put my umbrella to good use. And thereby protecting me, if not from a typhoon, from the sun at least.

Marblehall: Mandela Day

On 18 July 2013, South Africa (and the world!) celebrated International Mandela Day by spending 67 minutes to "make the world a better place." 

Why 67 minutes? 
Because Nelson Mandela has devoted 67 years of his life to actively changing the world. He started his first human rights campaign in 1942 at the youthful age of twenty-four and 67 years later (26 of which he spent in prison) the world celebrated the first International Nelson Mandela Day in 2009.

What did you do with your 67 minutes?
In South Africa, you need to only take a single, literal step to encounter someone in need. A neighbour, friend, gardener, or beggar at the street corner. Sixty seven minutes are mere drops in the ocean of time, but the comfort, support and hope provided during these precious minutes can spread to 67 days, months, or even years.

On 18 July a group of us spent the day building, painting and planting vegetables at Mokgwaneng Pre-school, close to Marblehall where 80 children from the area attend the pre-school and receive a meal every morning. For some, this is their only meal for the day. Many small feet walk the endless dirt roads between the local communities and the school daily for the enjoyment of wheeling old tyres through the dusty playground.

Mokgwaneng Pre-School

As we drove up to the school, peering out of the car windows, a parent turned to his 8 year old son and said in a paternal manner: "Imagine what it must be like living here."
With a frown his son smartly replied: "Why would I imagine that?"
Why indeed. Unless you are not privileged enough to imagine otherwise.

Before: The Classrooms and Playground

At the pre-school there was no water supply, no toys for the kids to play with, no green grass. Only a few scattered trees and classrooms with paint peeling under the sun's burning rays. 
We grabbed the tools, brushes and supplies we had brought and set to work straightaway.

Painting the Classrooms

By the time our paint supply had almost dried up, we still had a whole wall to cover. Luckily a smart problem-solving engineer (who knew engineers could be this creative!) devised a brilliant plan to turn the few drops we had left into a work of art.

Innovation

A Welcoming Sight

More and more kids turned up as we worked, staring at the vibrant paint with fascination, clapping their hands and singing songs they have been taught at school. 

The Children

The end result was magnificent. 
After 5 hours of work, 20 people had accomplished more than we could have imagined: Supplying water to the school, planting two vegetable gardens, painting 3 classrooms inside and out, and even building a jungle gym.

After: Classrooms, Vegetable Gardens, Jungle Gym

Then, my favourite part of the day: Playing vroteier with the kids. Because how can you fully appreciate being a child if you have never played vroteier?

Fun and Games

And so another happy, blessed Mandela Day had come to an end. 
Although, in South Africa, it is easy to make every day a Mandela Day.

"We must use time wisely and forever realise that the time is always ripe to do right" ~ Nelson Mandela.

Saying Goodbye

Johannesburg: Warm Winter Weather

It might be winter in South Africa, but the weather in Johannesburg is still absolutely amazing. 
I can recall many a day where the European spring sun had stayed hidden behind the clouds, rain drizzling from the skies in a never-ending pattern. If the Johannesburg winter were to compete with the Maastricht spring of 2013 in a best-weather tournament, the Maastricht spring might as well withdraw like a wimpy, under-the-weather child. There will be no contest. The Johannesburg winter will walk away with every award under the sun.

Even though the early mornings and evenings have been in the single digits with lows of 5 degrees C this week, by 10 am every day the sun has stretched its long, warm rays across the city, basking everything it touches in glorious sunlight. You don't even have to turn to the weather channel, because every day is the same: A cold morning that transforms into an amazingly 20 C sunny day, which cools down again by 5 pm. 

Warm Winter Days

Every weekend can (and have been!) celebrated with a braai, lunch or picnic in the sun.

Picnic Time

On this day a year ago, the picture looked a lot different though. For the first time ever all nine provinces of South Africa were covered with a blanket of snow. I remember clearly how people poured out into the streets to catch a glimpse of the snow and catch their first snowflake. People were cheering, hurling snowballs (quite an art, considering the snow was only 2 cm deep) and taking pictures with the icy white flecks on their faces. 

Show Day: August 2012

The winter of 2012 was magnificent and magical, but this year I will be celebrating the predictability of the Johannesburg weather with lazy picnics on the warm grass.

Johannesburg: Perceptions about the Netherlands

When I came home after living in Europe for 3 months, I had expected many questions and interrogations by my fellow South Africans regarding everyday life in the Netherlands.
I had expected questions about the food, the weather, the people.
I had anticipated telling funny stories about communication mishaps and missed trains.
But I had not foreseen this.

South Africans have an incredibly distorted view of life in the Netherlands!
The questions I have been asked have left me speechless and quite frankly, immensely amused. Who would have thought these would be just as more entertaining than questions being asked about South Africa!

It was very difficult to pick my favourites, but I have managed to identify the top 5 incredulous questions asked by South Africans about life in the Netherlands:

Question 1:
What's it like living in Amsterdam?

Answer:
I wouldn't know. Why don't you ask someone who actually lived there?

Truth:
I lived in Maastricht, people!
A city with 120 000 inhabitants in the province of Limburg, in the Southern part of Netherlands, 200 km from Amsterdam.

Maastricht (South) and Amsterdam (North)

I realise that not everyone has had the amazing opportunity to travel to the Netherlands, but South Africans very much believe that Amsterdam = the Netherlands. This could not be further from the truth.

Although Amsterdam is an incredible city, there is so much more to see and do in the Netherlands, especially in the South: Wonderful cities and towns with castles, caves, green meadows and rivers. Beautiful Maastricht with it's picturesque river and lively music flowing into the streets.


Question 2:
Are the Dutch very tall?

Answer:
For some strange reason no one wanted to stand still whenever I had smartly cornered them and stealthily approached, measuring tape and height chart clutched in hand.

Truth:
You do see more tall people in the Netherlands. And refreshingly, not a single random stranger in the Netherlands had asked me how tall I was, as opposed to in South Africa where I was greeted by customs with: "Eish! How tall are you?" and only as a vague afterthought "Oh yes... passport please."

According to this article, the Netherlands has the tallest average height for males above the age of twenty (1.81 m on average). South Africa is 52th on the list with an average height of 1.70 m. 
So yes, the Dutch are tall, and clearly less obsessed about it.


Question 3:
Have you joined a spinning class?

Answer:
Why would I pay money to pretend that I'm doing something, when I can actually do it? Outside. For free!

Truth:
In South Africa we get into our cars and drive to the gym to go and sit on a stationary bicycle while someone plays upbeat music and shouts military-style insults at us. We do this because it is the only place were the crazy drivers of Johannesburg won't flatten us like pancakes without batting an eye. Johannesburg is sadly not a cycling-friendly, pedestrian-friendly and, at times, motorist-friendly city.

In contrast, everyone in Maastricht owns a bicycle and very few people a car. Maastricht has cycle lanes, traffic lights specially dedicated to bicycles, and bridges with little ridges so that you can push your bicycle up the incline.
Besides, what could be more fun, exciting and challenging than cycling in a skirt and high heels, while balancing an umbrella in one hand and your weekly groceries in the other?

Cycle-Friendly Maastricht

Question 4:
Does everyone smoke weed all day long?

Answer:
... Mmm... Umm... Sorry... What was the question?

Truth:
It is widely known that drugs can be legally bought in the Netherlands, and in cities like Amsterdam you will find around 700 coffee shops where drugs are sold to foreigners due to the economic boost these sales provide.
In Maastricht though, even though coffee shops exist, cannabis cannot be sold to foreigners.

Amsterdam Coffee Shops

Question 5:
Are you fluent in Dutch yet?

Answer:
Are you fluent in Zulu yet?

Truth:
This might come to a shock to many Afrikaans-speaking and most English-speaking South Africans (especially those who fondly refer to Afrikaners as Dutchmen): Afrikaans and Dutch is not the same language.

Let's take a very basic sentence to describe a nice weekend:
Afrikaans: "Ek het 'n baie lekker naweek gehad."
Dutch: "Ik had een fijn weekend."
Can you identify one resembling word in the two sentences?
No? Because it is two different languages!

Hearing Dutch for the first time is like trying to catch raindrops with a sieve. The words come pouring down on you so fast that, while trying to catch a single word, you're missing the entire sentence. The words seem frustratingly familiar, but you have no idea what is being said and while you are contemplating this, you're standing there in silence with a bemused frown on your face looking like an idiot. 
Just to top it all, words like "verskoon my?" and "ekskuus?" don't exist. You have to use "wat zeg jij / u?" instead to have the sentence repeated.

The good news for Afrikaans-speakers, is that after a month you can hear the rain clouds rolling in and you start catching every 10th raindrop, which quickly becomes every 5th one - enough to be able to fill in the blanks. You realise that reading is easier than listening, but it can still be very confusing at times and misreading a word can completely change the meaning of a sentence. If the "nu" in "kom nu binne" is interpreted as "nie" (not) as opposed to "nou" (now), you might find yourself left out in the cold. Literally.

So, no, I do not speak Dutch fluently (yet). I try to communicate in short, straightforward Dutch (or rather Afri-Dutch) sentences. Sometimes it works, but often I am met with a frown and an "excuse me?" in English. 

Over time my Afri-Dutch will hopefully turn into proper Dutch. But for now, in South Africa, I'll be speaking as much Afrikaans and English as I can fit into a day.

Even if it means I will have to answer hilarious and ridiculous questions.
Because at least I can understand them.

Johannesburg: Perceptions about South Africa

I have not disappeared off the face of the earth.
I am, however, back in South Africa.

And it had taken longer than expected to source electronic parts with which I could construct a workable computer. I then had to brave the wild, ferocious African animals to reach a mountain high enough to transmit this message from. I have trekked over vast deserts and dry grasslands, running from hippos and hiding from hyenas. Luckily my pet lion, Simba, stayed close to my side to fend off dangerous animals and keep me company during the long solitary days.

If you are South African, you are probably reading this from your iPhone, chuckling to yourself while sipping on a cup of Nespresso. Because chances are that you have told, or at the very least had the urge to tell, a similar story to a foreigner you've encountered on another continent. It is not that us South Africans want to purposefully mislead foreigners when they ask about our country; the general perception about South Africa is just so skewed that we almost cannot help it.

One of my fellow (American) passengers on the 11 hour flight from Amsterdam to Johannesburg was a case in point. 
The gentlemen wore a proper safari pakkie for the whole duration of the flight: Khaki pants, hiking boots with knee-high khaki socks, a wide-brimmed sun hat, sunglasses and even a bandanna tied around his neck (because you never know when the sun can sneak through those tiny aeroplane windows and burn your neck to a crisp). If security had not confiscated his hunters knife at the checkpoint, he would have probably had that strapped to his chest to fend off the lions on the runway.

I assume he was slightly disappointed to step out into the lights, traffic, and high-rise buildings of modern Johannesburg and discover that his lion fight sighting might have to wait until later.

Sandton, Johannesburg

The incident, like so many others I have encountered during travels to both America and Europe, has inspired me to write down the top five hilarious questions that foreigners have asked me about South Africa. And also the answers I might have given, or at least wish I had. Just to be fair, I'll also include the truth so that all non-South Africans can learn a little more about our country. (Yes, South African is a country in, and not a state of, Africa).

Question 1:

Do you have a lion as a pet?

Answer:

No. I have two cheetahs though.

Truth:

We do not have lions, cheetahs, or any other wild animals as pets. We tend to stick to pets that won't attack you from behind and chew off a limb just for the fun of it.
If you want to see wild animals, you can find them in, well, the wild. In the Kruger National Park and other game reserves you can gaze at them from the safety of your car and in Johannesburg you can visit the Rhino & Lion Nature Reserve or the Lion Park to see lions up close and even touch the cubs. Don't forget that they are and will always be wild animals - you might very well leave with a torn shirt after they have clawed at you playfully...

Question 2:

Do you have celebrities in South Africa?

Answer:

You mean you've never heard of Kurt Darren?!

Truth:
Like any country we have local South African artists, actors, musicians, sport stars and comedians. We have local TV shows, soap operas, music, magazines, and movies. 
We have many celebrities. We have Nelson Mandela.

Question 3:

Can you say something in African / Africanese / Zuid-Afrikaans?

Answer:

No. I cannot say anything in a language that doesn't exist. 

Ek kan wel iets in Afrikaans se, want dit is wat my moedertaal genoem word.

Truth:
Afrikaans, my first language, is the youngest language spoken in the world today. It became an official language in 1925 and has 6.9 million native speakers (most of them based in South Africa) and around 20 million speakers in total. 
Everything can be described with the Afrikaans word "lekker": The weather, the weekend, the food, your mood. 
Afrikaans is a lekker expressive language.

Question 4:

I've met someone from Africa once. Do you know Liezl?

Answer:

Of course! She lives five huts down from mine. We go berry-picking every day and braid each other's hair around the fire at night.

Truth:

There are 50 million people in South Africa. There were five Liezl's (or rather Liezl, Liesl, Liezel, Liesel, and Lizel) in my high school year group alone. So no, I do not know your Liezl. And chances are I never will.

Question 5:

Why are you white?

Answer:

Because God made me that way.

Truth:

Because God made me that way.
There are 4.5 million white people in South Africa (9% of the population). Other ethnic groups include African, Coloured, Indian, and Asian.
We might be different but we are all South African.

And that, my friends, is the truth about South Africa.
I might not have a pet lion waiting for me at home, but I do have friends, family, amazing weather (even in winter), and many braais and kuiers with loved ones.
Here's to time spent in South Africa!

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