Een van my gunsteling liedjies...

The Story (Brandi Carlirle)
All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no-one to tell them to
It's true...I was made for you

I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
You do I was made for you

You see the smile that's on my mouth
It's hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what I've been through like you do
And I was made for you

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
 It's true...I was made for you

The Princess and the Frog

There once was a bald frog that was under a spell. He was in fact not a bald frog, but a bald old man. A princess came along one day and heard the bald frog's cry for help. He told her about his hard life and complained about being a frog and about being so bald. He asked for a kiss and together forever they could be. The princess considered this for a moment or two...in the end she gave to frog a lovely wig. Be happy little frog , she said...You will never have to be bald again.

Reflection of the year...

So, it is that time of the year where we need to reflect on the year that has gone by and think of all the good times and the not so good times and what we've learnt and what we will change in the coming year. Normally I won't do this for everyone to see, but rather in the privacy of my diary, but since I haven't written in my diary since March this year and since I did start this blog in order to write and tell the world something, I might as well share it with the few people that bothers to read it... What I've learnt from 2010:

• God shows Himself to you in the strangest ways. Even if it is in the big green eyes of my crazy cat, who licks herself lazily next to me at night.
• I love working with black people. Their way of surviving as a community and sharing everything - even if it is their last piece of bread, as well as their gratefulness for the smallest things is something that I admire and that I will miss everyday that I'm not working for the goverment.
• You will never find the perfect job. There will always be aspects that are great in one environment where in another environment with other benefits - you might not find it. You should make the best of what you have at the moment as you can always learn something new, no matter what you are doing.
• You can be best friends with a boy even if you have a boyfriend and even if this particular boy is your ex-boyfriend. As long as you are completely honest with each other and with the partners in your life at all times.
• Old people are extremely difficult creatures. They are unthankful, helpless, needy and childlike. They are also still the human beings I love the most and it breaks my heart everyday to work with them.
• I really do love soccer and the South African spirit I experienced in the World Cup. I will always "Feel It" from time to time and then sing Waka Waka in the shower.
• You can loose your randomness if you are surrounded by people that are never random. It does however come back quickly once you are with those random people again.
• There is a different you that hides away and sometimes come out in crisis situations (e..g having a gun to your head) that is calm and collected and can take charge when necessary. Maybe this person can one day show it's face more often and I can actually become closer to the person I aspire to be.
• I really do not like guns!
• I really love puppies and think that you experience true happiness for a split second when a puppy is wriggling in your arms and licking your face.
• I can talk to people of different religions about God and sometimes they understand me better than people from my own religion.
• You can have so much fun with the following phrase: "in your pants"
• I will never be part of another crazy and random department as the one in had in Rustenburg.
• Continuously showing God's love to the world, does have an effect on people - even if in some cases it takes a very long time to see the effect.
• Life is indeed like a box of chocolates.
• I do not like Jack Parrow and places where there is so much smoke and noise that you cannot have a conversation with your friends.
• You can have lots of friends and you should, but there are one or two friends who are your best friends and knows you so well that you don't even have to say something for them to know how you feel.
• A BlackBerry is the next best thing since sliced bread.
• People judge books by it's covers every single day.
• I am much stronger than I sometimes believe I am.
• I love Bob Dylan. He is like red wine. Once you get used to the taste, you cannot live without it.
• It is possible to love someone a little bit more every single day.

May 2011 be filled with love, laughter and lots of random thoughts...

Nog `n gedig...

Ek dra jou hart saam met my
(verwerk van I carry your heart with me - E.E.Cummings)

ek dra jou hart saam met my (ek dra dit binne in my hart)
ek is nooit sonder jou nie (want waar jy gaan, sal ek gaan my lief – wat jy doen, sal ek saam met jou doen) ek vrees nie wat met my gebeur nie – (want jou teenwoordigheid bepaal wat met my gebeur)
ek begeer nie die wereld nie (want jy is my wereld my alles)
jy is die een wat my laat verstaan wat die maanlig beteken… en wat my daagliks die son se lied laat hoor

hier is die diepste geheim wat niemand besef nie die wortel wat die wereld aanmekaar verbind –
die bloeisel wat vir `n oomblik sin gee aan die lewe die lug wat raak aan die boom van die lewe
wat hoër groei as wat die siel kan sien of die hart kan hoop
dit is die onmoontlike, die wonder - wat sterre uitmekaar uit hou
ek dra jou hart my lief…
ek dra jou hart in my hart

The interesting life of the little lost boy...

There once was a little lost boy. He lived in a little tree house in a not so little forest that formed part of the much bigger world. He wandered around from day to day, looking for something or someone to make him feel a little less lost.
One day, he discovered a mushroom tree. On top of the mushroom tree sat a little girl. "Hallo little girl" the little lost boy said. "Hallo little boy" the little girl said. They smiled at each other - both lost in thought for a second. The little lost boy took the little girl's hand and said: "Little girl, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes upon. Would you care to get lost with me in this not so little forest that forms part of the much bigger world?" The little girl said without hesitation: "I certainly would." The little lost boy and the little lost girl walked off in the sunset.
Did they live happily ever after? No-one knows, since they were never found...

(Extracts from the thoughts of a so-called random girl - who has somehow lost her randomness...)

Being in a relationship with a golfer (is difficult for people sometimes)...

This morning at exactly 05h45, I was picked up by one eager golfer to go play some golf. (Me in the scenario are off course only in a supporting role).
On our excursions to various golf courses, I am usually very very grumpy and only warms up towards the 16th hole, when the end is visible and we can go home... (sometimes if I get some nice food and a cup of coffee, I might show a little affection during halftime)
So, this morning, when I couldn't feel my hands or face from the cold and the wind, I starting thinking about this bizarre sport and why some people love it so much. Honestly, no answers came to mind. But I thought I would write a little something about the perceptions of the non-golfer about this strange sport.

 When I went for support for the first time, Golf Etiquette 101 was given to me in a ten minute lecture.

1.  Do not speak - at all. This is off course only a rule for non-golfers, as the people hitting the balls seem to be talking and analyzing and making comments all the time. 
2.  No cellphones. I understood this: the Rolling Stones could be distracting if they started singing just before someone takes that important swing.
3. Do not walk on the green - you might hurt it. Again - this is only for non-golfers, the golfers get to walk on the green, look at the ball for hours, while pacing forward and backwards, and yes - even stamping their feet on the precious green when upset.
4. If at any time, you hear someone scream "Four", immediately fall down to earth, face down - to avoid being hit by a ball.
5. Do not distract the golfers - meaning: dress rather conservatively if you are a girl.

I've also learned some golf terms and their meaning:

• Fairway (the place where the ball should be kept on to avoid being in the rough)
•  Rough (a place that looks almost exactly like the fairway, but a fine line divides the two and if your ball missed the fairway and your into the rough - your into trouble)
• Par (you played as many shots as the expert said you should play on this hole)
• Birdie (you have played one less shot than the expert said you should play on this hole...this is a good thing, because in golf - scoring is done the opposite way: less is more).
• Pissie (a ball that is too scared to go close to the dark hole and stops just a few centimeters before) Golf widow (something I would apparently become very soon according to my mother. Not sure why. Golf is apparently a much more dangerous sport than I thought at first.

From observing and supporting every now and then, I've also learnt a few strange facts about this game and the players:

• Golf is about walking: you walk and walk untill you find your ball, then you hit if further and walk again to go find it again.
• Players always retrace their steps once they have hit the ball. This means, that once the ball is gone (and usually it went in a different direction than planned), the take an imaginery ball, put it on the exact same spot than the real ball was and perform which looks to me like the exact same action. Then they say: "That was the way I should have done it"
• The game consists of a good-shot-bad-shot combination. Once a golfer made a good shot, it is sure to be followed by a bad shot. This is too keep them interested in and excited about the game. Even if a player has played very badly (when even the non-expert eye like mine could see it was a rough game), one good shot can make up for all the poor ones. This is the beauty of the game: because out of the ranging from 80 to sometimes over a 100 shots that were taken, you will be able to recall that one good one, that went exactly where you aimed it at. This wil force you to continue playing golf - to hit another shot like that.
• This bring me to my next point: The ball rarely goes to where the golf player aims it at.
• You shouldn't look up too soon before you hit a ball - this could have a very, very bad effect on your game. Other golfers will immediately tell you when you looked up too soon.
• You have to carry a small bag of sand with you all the time. If you don't other golf players will look down on you.
• Swearing is part of the game. I did not include some of these word in the terms that I've learned to keep the post viewer friendly.
• Golfers claim to play golf to relax. However, they always leave the course looking very unrelaxed and frustrated. I've figured that it's probably a long-term thing - where the relaxation only kicks in after a few days.
• My favourite part of golfing: the zen gardens. Each course has a hundred of these. In golf terms they are called bunkers. The aim is for a golfer (that is starting to get frustrated with his game) to hit the ball in the zen garden/bunker. Then they have to try to get the ball out of the zen garden/bunker, which normally takes the frustration levels to a peek...then they start raking the sand in circles to completely calm themselves down again... Brilliant!

Another thing that rather amuses me about golf, is the pro-shop where you buy all your (oh-so-very-expensive) golf equipment. They sell some pretty useless stuff there: e.g. a pencil specifically designed to write on score cards (?), stuffed animals to put on your clubs, a thing that reaches in difficult places to get hold of your ball. (the last one is actually useful, but still very amusing)... However, the pro-shop is a holy place for most golfers and should be respected at all times.

Even though golfers are strange and the game is even stranger: I truly have respect for them. They never ever give up and they always go back, no matter how frustrating the previous game was. And to see the look of exitement about every new course and before every game - the hope that this game will be the best game ever...is priceless :)

Bye Bye JST

For the past year and a half - I have been working at a hospital called Job Shimankana Tabane Hospital. As the name suggest - the hospital is not like your ordinary public hospital.
Yes, there is dirty wards, lazy nurses and doctors with god-complexes, but something was different and even though you cannot always put your finger to it - there is something about the place that makes it extremely difficult to leave once you've grown attached...
Sadly, I finally had to make the decision to say good-bye and I thought I would share a few of my favorite memories that I will never forget:

•  Dr Dungwa: This is the head of our peadiatric unit who always graced the rehab department with his presence just before home time. He looked like a muppet from the muppet show and had a permanent smile on his face. He would always get into interesting conversations with you e.g. "Are you related to the Richards who plays golf for Zimbabwe?" "No, Dr Dungwa, I am not related to the black golfer that you know from Zimbabwe (looking at him with my puppy eyes in my fairly pale skinned face). We used to play hide and seek with him - where we would hide and forgot to tell him that we are playing a game:)                                                                                                                             

Some of his famous sayings and suggestions:   
                                                                                         
- To speechtherapists: "If you use bubble wrap to put on top of the incubators to dampen the sound - why don't you just wrap the babies in bubble wrap?" (smile/grin on face) "Why do newborn babies need speechtherapy, they cannot speak? Actually, why do children ever need speechtherapy - you can live without talking; as long as you are walking?" (smile/grin on face)                                            
- To dieticians: "Can't we give the new-born (mostly premature) babies chocolate flavoured milk - they will really appreciate that so much more?" (smile/grin on face)                                                  
 - To occupational therapists about 6week old baby: "Why haven't you seen this child yet for therapy - he's had Cerebal Palsy his whole life?" (smile/grin on face) Yes, I will definately miss this strange and enigmatic man when doctors' make sense when talking to me about the patients in the future...

• Our Crazy Fridays: There was always something different in the air on Fridays and we tend to have crazy and weird conversations the whole day long and laugh about things that are not funny at all. Sometimes these craziness even creeped in on us on a Thursday afternoon... Our conversations would range from topics such as dust on lips to how drinking bad water is better than drinking no water at all.
• A crazy and fun department that supports and participates days such as "Public Day of Randomness", "National Hygiene Day" and "Wear a flag day". Most other people were confused by these days - like when we gave a horrible, lazy and sometimes aggresive physiotherapist a badge to wear explaining "The pants of peace".
• My psychiatric in-patient groups. Many fun memories were made in these groups. From our weekly general knowledge quiz and singing of the anthem (some black people refusing to sing the zulu, xhosa and sesotho lines, but standing up and with great respect singing the Afrikaans part?) to our weekly walks to the cafeteria where they had a new suprise for me everyday...casually talking and then starting to eat the grass as a group, one patient seeing a cat and starting to chase it like a dog, and many many conversations that made no sense at all. Like my colleagues say (and I'm going to take this as a compliment) I was perfect for pscyh:)

Finally the last week at JST arrived. My last few nights at Kloof:

• Monday night - have to pack, but drink a glass of red wine and watch gilmore girls instead to avoid thinking about leaving...
• Tuesday night - planning to do the same as above, but some friendly neighbours from the B-side decides to visit. Went for Wild Bean hotdogs and McDonalds chippies, had another glass of red wine, watched soccer and talked about the good old days...(no packing)
• Wednesday night - roomie night. My wonderful roommate, made wonderful food (wish I could cook like her) and off course, we had a glass (or 2) of red wine, talked about the good old days and watched gilmore girls...(no packing)
• Thursday night - had an awesome farewell party with all the people I've learned to know and love over this past year and a half (except offcourse the ones who left at the end of last year), had cocktails, talked about the good old days, said my farewells...(no packing)
• Friday night - watched soccer, ate pizza, did not have a glass of red wine for some or other weird reason, watched gilmore girls and yet again NO PACKING (or thinking about leaving)...
• Saturday morning - slept late, had breakfast, packed everything up in 2hours, had an emotional goodbye with roomie, one last meal at McDonalds and left Rustenburg without looking back (my car was quite full - could not see through the back window).

I'm already missing everyone: my friends, my patients and the beautiful Kloof that was my home since last year, but it was time for me to move on and know I made rhe right (very difficult) decision. Just thought I would let everyone know that I really really loved my first job at the wonderful, strange and sometimes sad JST...

Tyd vir `n gedig...

Kosmos
(Verwerking van Daffodils - William Wordsworth)

Ek dwarrel soos `n wolk wat hoog vlieg bo vlaktes en koppies
Toe ek skielik `n skare van kosmos - wit en pers - langs die dam opmerk
(vlietend en dansend in die wind)
 Soos sterre wat aanhou skyn en die melkweg verlig
- strek hulle in `n nimmereindigende lyn langs die oewer van die dam
`n Duisend of twee met oogopslag -
(huppelend en vrolik in die oggend lig)
Mens en digter staan verstom voor die samesyn van blom
 Ek kyk en dink en drink in die beeld met die wonder van `n kind

Lank daarna - onder my komberse toegevou,
laat ek my gedagtes dwaal
en raak weer verlore in die prag
Die stilte laat my los -
ek dans saam met die kosmos...

Public Day of Randomness..

More is "public day of randomness".
'n Dag geskep deur die uwe om mense te laat vergeet van hulle alledaagse probleme en heeltemal deurmekaar en verward te laat voel, maar vreemd gelukkig en tevrede met die lewe:)
Ek is random (nie seker wat die korrekte Afrikaanse woord is hiervoor nie - dalk onverwags?) So, danksy `n goeie vriend, wat mal was oor my nes ek is - en veral met my onverwagsheid geassosieer het, is ek voorgestel aan die weird en wonderlike wereld van Edward Monkton... Hy teken strokiesprente met segoed wat mens laat hardop lag - alhoewel jy nie heeltemal seker is hoekom nie. Een van my gunstelinge: "May the sausage of peace forever be dipped in the ketchup of happiness" Edward Monkton se strokiesprente is dan ook die basis wat gebruik word vir ons badges wat wat ons more gaan dra. Elkeen het `n unieke een wat by sy persoonlikheid pas. Myne: die Doodlike Pikkewyn...
 `n Paar idees om op hierdie unieke dag te doen:

• oortuig mense dat mens `n kateter permanent moet oorweeg. Dit sal mens se lewe soveel makliker maak - veral die met TB (tiny bladder)
• noem mense op die naam wat jy dink die beste by hulle pas
• kyk Napoleon Dynamite (randomste fliek ooit) met 3D brille op
• raak elke nou en dan in die middel van `n gesprek `n filsofiese sê ding kwyt soos: "Partykeer is die lewe moeilik vir mense oor die wereld"
• eet saam met jou psigiatrie pasiente gras en kyk of dit regtig so smaaklik is soos wat hulle se.

 Miskien, sal jy soos die res van die wereld dink dat hierdie dag vir die minder verstandelik gesonde mense is... Ek dink net in hierdie wereld vol vrees en bekommernisse (en met hierdie wereld bedoel ek my eie klein wereldjie en verwys ek glad nie na dinge soos die gat in die osoonlaag of plaasmoorde nie) is daar dae soos hierdie nodig. Waar mens net kan laat gaan, glad nie omgee wat ander mense van jou dink nie...die vreemdste weird en wacky deel van jouself na vore bring en omring wees deur mense wat net so verassend onverwags optree...

Happy PDOR. Spread the word!!!!

Ek het iets om te se...

Meeste mense voel hulle het iets om te sê…
Die wat goed is met woorde, skryf boeke of artikels, gedigte en liedere. Die wat goed is met praat – debatteer, filsofeer en argumeteer. Dan is daar die mense wat verkies om dit wat hulle wil sê, vir hulle self te hou – al wat weggee dat hulle soos die res van ons iets het om te sê, is `n glimlag: “ek-weet-iets-wat-niemand-anders-weet-nie”.
Ek voel al van kleins af dat ek iets het om te sê: voor ek kon skryf, het ek lang wolhaarstories vir my gunsteling speelding - `n eekhoring wat ek gerieflikheidshalwe Eekie genoem het – vertel voordat ek aan die slaap geraak het. Toe ek in skool was en boeke ontdek het en uiteindelik tussen die lyne kon skryf – het ek besluit ek wil `n boek skryf. Dit is natuurlik eers na ek `n hele paar opstelle geskryf het oor dinge soos “My lewe as `n appel” en die groot boom vol feëtjies in ons tuin. My hoërskool loopbaan het ek danksy `n wonderlike onderwyser – die wonder en magie van Afrikaans ontdek. Volgende was inskrywings in my dagboek en dan…gedigte! Die eerste jaar wat ek begin het, kon ek nie genoeg kry daarvan nie. Die een moes beter as die vorige een wees. En alhoewel nie een regtig goed was of ware poësie was nie – het dit vir my so baie beteken. Ek het `n stem gehad. Min mense het dit geweet, maar ek het my emosies en diep begeertes op `n manier aan die wêreld (Afrikaanse onderwyser, 2 vriendinne en my ma) bekend gemaak.    Op universiteit het die gedigte minder geword, so ook die inskrywings in my dagboek. Ek het hier en daar deelgeneem aan filsofiese gesprekke – kenmerkend aan studente kuiers. Maar die deel van my wat moes skryf om myself te wees –het stadig maar seker verdwyn.
Tot nou die dag….my-soortvan-skoonma het my vertel van `n plek in die Karoo waar jy na N.P. van Wyk Louw se huis toe kan gaan en inspirasie vind en skryf… Skryf – soveel en solank as wat jy wil. Ure en ure van skryf. Iets het in my geroer - `n stukkie van die ou ek. Die ek wat heeltemal te vroeg wegbeweeg het van kinderboeke. Wat op `n tyd 8 boeke per week gelees het. Wat op dieselfde tyd geskok was deur André P Brink se boeke, maar ook diep ontroer deur die pragtige woorde, die diepte van die karakters en die lewenswaarhede.
 En toe besluit ek om iets te sê, want ek het iets om te sê. En ek glo daar is iemand daarbuite (waarskynlik my onderwyser, twee vriendinne en my ma) wat graag wil hoor wat ek te sê het. So hierdie is dag 1 van my terugkeer na die wonder en die sukkel van skryf…