That's what your mother said!

I'm Afrikaans. For those of you that have not heard of it, it’s a West Germanic language, spoken natively in South Africa and Namibia. It is a daughter language of Dutch, originating in its 17th century dialects, collectively referred to as Cape Dutch (a term also used to refer collectively to the early Dutch settlers). Although Afrikaans adopted words from languages such as Malay, Portuguese, the Bantu languages, and the Khoisan languages, an estimated 90 to 95 percent of Afrikaans vocabulary is ultimately of Dutch origin.

I speak the language and it is more than just semantics, it's a culture where people are raised in a specific way. There is a stigma that goes with being Afrikaans. Most of the people are conservative, super religious and have terrible taste in music. Like this idiot :S

Steve Hofmeyr

This is partly due to the fact that the Apartheid government had a jugular-death-grip on the media. For decades not allowing the public to read or listen to anything but local produce. Pumping propaganda not only from the airwaves; but also from the ministers of the local churches. 

This is something I have been rebelling against for as long as I can remember.

But Afrikaans as a culture is a topic for another day.

That being said there is nothing as great as speaking in your mother tongue, especially such a descriptive and sometimes ‘angry’ language as Afrikaans. Below a song by an Afrikaans artist Koos Kombuis. Please bear in mind this no longer falls into the cheesy Afrikaans music category but the artist is one of the “underground” players in the Apartheid regime. I chose one of my favourites "Liefde uit die Oude doos" roughly translates to "Old school Love".  Google translate if you keen: P

Liefde uit die oude Doos

Ek wil lewe in jou skaduwee, ek wil jou blik oor alles voel
Elke oggend as die son opkom, oor my bed en kas en stoel
Ek wil weet net hoe en wat jy is, ek wil jou fyn maal op die wal
Ek wil jou rook soos goeie kruie uit die diepste, diepste dal
Ek wil jou dophou as jy luister na die woorde van matrose
Ek wil saamgaan op jou strooptog, ek wil deel in jou psigose

Kuns is edel, kuns is boos, kuns is nogtans skadeloos
Kind van sonde, kind van troos, kind van Liefde uit die Oudedoos

Ek het ‘n suster net soos jy. Sy dwaal rond in ou, ou gange
tussen prente en portrette, en wardrobes van verlange
Die hemel is in LSD. Die hel ook as jy my vra
Die paragrawe wat jy brei, is ‘n trui vir Mamma Afrika
Ek wil jou rondwys in my hart, maar jy mag dit nie onthou nie
Die knoppie is op pause, maar my boude is nie blou nie

Kuns is edel, kuns is boos, kuns is nogtans Goddeloos
Kind van sonde, kind van troos, kind van Liefde uit die Oudedoos

Dis ‘n bitterbessie dagbreek, dis ‘n uitroep komma-punt
Mabalel is huistoe, want sy mis haar eie kind
Ek wens ek kon jou teken met ‘n koukie of ‘n kwas
Ek wens ek kon onthou hoekom ek so bewerig was
Ek wens ek kon jou oopskryf, met my balpunt pen behaag
Ek wens ons kon saam wakker word in ‘n youth hostel in Praag

God is edel, God is boos, God is nogtans skadeloos
Kind van sonde, kind van troos, kind van Liefde uit die Oudedoos

Paul Kruger likes to party

A certain time of year

No, this isn’t a post about Christmas. To be honest there is nothing more annoying than fake Santas in their warm and woolly red suites. It’s South Africa for crying out loud, we have hot and humid festive seasons at the sea side!

I’m talking about that end of the year feeling, when everything winds down at work, you’re not as busy and you reflect about the past year. Well 2011 has been a strange one. Best friends getting married, people dear to me passing away, the end of a long term relationship the start of a new chapter. It kind of leaves you with a haunting nervousness for the future onset with the realization that everything depends on certain choices you make in life.

It reminded me of a poem by Christina Rossetti called “Remember”. The poem is so versatile it can be about losing a person dear to you, the end of a relationship or just the end of an era in your life. It is a poignant poem with soft positive undercurrents that will stay with me for a long time. Christina Rossetti life spanned from 5 December 1830-1894 and although it’s more than 100 years ago this piece of poetry is timeless.

Remember me when I am gone away,  

Gone far away into the silent land;  

When you can no more hold me by the hand,  

Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.  

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann'd:  

Only remember me; you understand  

It will be late to counsel then or pray.  

Yet if you should forget me for a while  

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave  

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,  

Better by far you should forget and smile  

Than that you should remember and be sad.

Time is a'ticking