Less Than Ideal Memories
Despite all the free time which a long holiday such as the one I am on affords, reflections and introspections are scarce. This is because you are either on the go, or just vegging out completely. But in the past week some things have happened which have, quite literally, been thought provoking. I don't want to go into all of it, but I shall say that I felt like a major fake in the beginning of the week. I am not proud of it, but I honestly don't know what to make of the situation.
Yesterday I was walking around in the local mall when I saw someone there working in a shop whom I went to school with. We were never really friends and, admittedly, I had ducked-and-dived her before, but for some reason I walked up to her and greeted her. She greeted me surprisingly warmly and we proceeded to have a pleasant chat. She has changed a lot since primary school: she has grown assertive and independent, which was nice to see. I was reminded again of what a jack-ass I was back in primary school, especially towards her. I don't think of what happened back then as water under the bridge, even though I try very hard to put those days behind me. Its very simple: we were all brats and little monsters back in primary school. Still, those were the days of our emotional awakenings, and our actions towards other people bore great weight. [Primary] school is probably one of the most hostile and unpleasant environments a child can find him or herself in.
Having mostly been a “victim” during school years, I was quick to slot into the “survival of the fittest” (jack-ass?) mentality (retarded): if someone was in some sense “weaker” that you or gave any quarter whatsoever, I took advantage of that person to give the appearance that I am not completely at the bottom of the food-chain. I did this with a few people, and regret it very much today. While I cannot change the past, I can at least hope to learn from it.
People change. The people I know have all changed over the years. Those who were first are now last and those who were last are now first. We, for some people and in some sense. Earlier this year I was contacted by someone I occasionally victimized during high school during Facebook. I took the opportunity to sincerely apologize for my actions. He never responded: I do not know whether my words meant anything to him or not. He has also changed. I don't know for better or for worse. The absolute worst feeling is the thought that your malicious actions impacted someone's life negatively.
Very Privileged
In our materialistic world where the notion of “me, me, me” is frequently reinforced (sometimes by the media and sometimes by the people around us), it becomes easy to loose sight of humility. I hesitate to talk about humility, because when people call themselves humble I often think the contrary (an example was the only Q&A of one of the Miss South Africa finalists which I happened to glance the other day). But the point that I am trying to make is that, through our daily trails and tribulations, when something goes our way, we easily consider it a right, not a privileged. Even people who have our best intentions at heart sometimes push us to such a train of thought: trying to convince a burned our friend, colleague or family member to take a break and some “you time”, congratulating people on an award or achievement, saying “you deserve it”. There is nothing wrong with saying these things, but one must never loose sight of the distinction between rights and privileges.
I have been very fortunate this year because of the support (moral, emotional and financial) which I have received from my family this year. Yes, I am the youngest and still dependent on my parents, but I am also an adult and knows no-one “owes” me anything. Whatever I get, I get out of love. I am privileged. But my privilege level might soon go through the roof.
My mother owns a beach house near Langebaan. We never used it much and I don't particularly like it very much (although I shall always remember it as the place where I welcomed in the new millennium). We've been renting out the house for years now, with more than a fair share of hiccups.
Yesterday, my mother formulated a plan: sell that house, buy a flat in Stellenbosch and have me live there. The plan has more to it and it basically boils down to me becoming self-sufficient. Well, considerably more self-sufficient than I am at the moment, at least. The speed at which this plan formed caught me slightly by surprised. My mother had set the wheels of this plan in motion this morning already. While I am very happy and excited about this prospect, I strain to reel myself in. I want to approach this matter as objectively as possibly. Just because I shall benefit from this plan, does not necessarily make it a “good plan” on the whole. However, I still find the “pro” column of the list of global implications of this plan to be much larger than the “con” column. While I am no financial expert, I believe properties in Stellenbosch generally only appreciate, so it seems like a sound investment. When I move out, the option remains to either rent out the flat, or sell it. There are lots of other details which I won't go into now, but it seems like this thing is going to happen. I can only pray that it will work out for the best for everyone.
On Saturday I finally moved into my new room in Stellenbosch. While I look forward to my stay there, it also has several drawbacks one simply cannot ignore. Luckily, I do not have a formal, written contract, so I can give notice and move out whenever I want to. But I don't think that this is going to happen soon; I think (and hope) that this real-estate transaction won't be completed for some months.
I feel very privileged, very blessed, very loved.
This morning I read an extract from an interview with Rick Warren. He said that life is not a series of hills and valleys, “ups and downs”, but rather a two way track. Wherever we are in our lives, there are always good things and bad things going on. Perhaps the bad overshadows the good or vice versa, but both are always present. When we are down, we must seek out the good and when we are happy, we must take caution of the lingering or looming bad. This point of view is by no means new, but it did get me thinking about this year. I have repeatedly labelled this year as a “bad” one, and will probably continue doing so for a long time. The academics were murder, I and problems with family and people close to me and a plethora of other things. But, I still “passed” a screening for depression. Simply filling out that form (I think I have previously mentioned that I was not impressed with that test, because it was obvious which answers would lead to which diagnosis) made me realize that I am still in a position where I can appreciate the good despite the bad. I know I'm loved, I know I have a purpose and I appreciate what and who I have in my life (now more so that a few months earlier, but that is a story for another day). I am blessed.
Baruch Ha Shem!
No Longer A Zimbabwean
On Friday, after two years, I moved out of Zimbabwe flats on Stellenbosch. The deceptive feeling of having moved in “just the other day” is a harrowing reminder of the swift passage of time. That place saw some of the best and some of the worst of me, all within a total of less than 600 days. There were good times and some horribly bad times. But such is life! I close that chapter of my life only looking forward to new adventures, challenges and opportunities for growth.
I may have escaped Zimbabwe, but I am cautious to state that I have escaped all problems relating to electricity and running water. At least my experiences over the past two years have taught me to deal with them to a reasonable extent*.
I have moved out of the old place, but not into the new one yet – that is only going to happen next weekend. I am looking forward to settling into the new place, but I am going to have to make a few lifestyle adjustments to be able to cope with living in such a small place. But that is next year's worries; I am now back at home with my parents for the holidays. Early this week my brother and his wife will arrive from the UK to start their three month holiday. Everyone is looking forward to that. I have no special plans for the holiday: whenever I'm not going to be spending time with my family, I'll wing it.
I am still a prisoner of my year project. That feeling of guilt of not working on my project seems to have become a part of me. Much like a malignant growth. I doubt whether I'll be able to shake it off before the year's end, even though my promoter wants me to finish it now. A small problem is that I've lost a significant amount of motivation (I'm going to keep the reason for this as a surprise for later).
I have not yet heard from any of the places where I applied for part-time work for next year, but I'm still hoping to find something. I have decided not to work this December (even though I had a good opportunity), but I have landed a sweet job as a student assistant with the university for a short course (only a week) in January, which promises to pay very well.
* While there were some problems with the utilities, I must admit that I actually really enjoyed my stay in Zimbabwe. The flat was nice and spacious, it was very close to campus and, contrary to expectations, secure. I also had a great flatmate in my cousin. All-in-all, I'm very thankful for the opportunity to have been able to life there.
