Permanent Residency - At Last!

After months of admin, waiting and paying very large amounts of NZ$ to Immigration NZ, we finally got the letter this week: Our Permanent Residency has been approved. Just a final payment, stamps in the passport, and the children and I are set.

Having PR is a huge, huge benefit. Firstly, no more annual visa applications. Hospitalisation and some other social benefits come our way. And university study is so much cheaper and easier. We are so excited - more so, because we're on our way to South Africa for a short visit, and having the all-important documentation means no stress at customs when we come back. Hooray!

Best of all - the two older kids can now legally find part-time jobs. No more pocket money. No more excuses. No more sullen teenagers hanging around the house. (Actually that's not fair - they're mostly all quite nice.) But it will be nice for them all to have some extra cash, like all the other Kiwi youngsters!

He'll always be my little boy!

Just moments ago, he was a little toddler with dark, brown eyes, grabbing my finger to walk around the swimming pool.

A year or so later, he was sitting on the couch with his arms folded, lisping "Alleme Dalla kly net altyd laas". (Afrikaans for 'Poor Dalla is always in trouble' - after all the busy grown-ups had kept sending him away from one to another...) Eyes looking trustingly up at his mum, knowing I would come to his rescue.

In my mind's eye I still see his big, serious brown eyes looking at me with such ernestness the day after his father died. He was only eight, and he told me that I was not to worry - he would be the man of the house now.

My little boy woke up with a severe tummy ache at 2 o'clock this morning. After hours of waiting, worrying, waiting some more, he was taken for an emergency appendectomy! Today I had to watch while they stuck needles in my baby. Prodded him and poked him. He was so brave, and stoic and trying not to upset me. The worst moment was when he was wheeled into the operation theatre, with me waving teary-eyed from a distance. More waiting around, worrying, a few nervous tears and poor hubby trying to keep the show on the road. Eventually after 3 hours we were told he was in recovery. At last, the waiting was over. I just wanted to be with my son. After the surgery he looked so helpless, and sweet and I longed to cuddle him on my lap.

But... today he would have none of this. Obviously annoyed and embarrassed by his doting mum, he closed his eyes, much like he used to when he was small, and he had thought that I couldn't see him if his face was covered. Problem is, he's eighteen now, taller than me, quite hairy, and making eyes at the nurses!

image: http://polvo.org/april07/Emergency.jpg

Home Again... in three weeks!

In little less than three weeks, I'll be back on African Soil. Hubby and I are going for a quick visit to see his 13 yr old daughter and other family. I'm excited and filled with trepidation all at the same time!

There's so much to do before we go. So many things to organize. Gifts to buy. Kids to worry about.

So much to be excited about. So much to worry about. So much To Do!

Excited about...

• The day we'll spend en route in Singapore - never been there before!
  
• Seeing all our family, especially my sister's babies!
• Shopping in shops I grew up with. Oh Pick & Pay, Clicks and Woolworths, how I miss you!
  
• Spending NZ Dollars, which convert nicely to R6 each!
• A meal at the Spur. I'll probably have a Manhattan Mushroom Melt, with a Salad Valley on the side. Yummy! (Probably about 6 million Kj, but who cares - I can't have them here!)
• Spending time walking on the long Jeffreys Bay beach, hopefully in the sunlight!
• Listening to music with my Dad. Painting with my Mum. Arguing with my brother-in-law (who's a lawyer, and such a lovely man!) Chilling out with my sister. Giggling with my Aunt. And sharing a couple of Tassies around a braai with all the rest.
  
• Playing with the new puppy. (We can't have a dog - we're renting!)
  

Worried about...

• Will I want to come home to NZ again? Will I like what I see there?
  
• Crime... I have been held up at gunpoint before - don't want to go throught the trauma again... Yikes...
• Will my R6's be able to buy there, what my $NZ dollar buys here?
• Will the family be nice to me? And the step-daughter? And the Mother-in-law(s)?
  
• Has my accent changed? Will they think I'm different? Am I still in fashion in SA?
  
• Will my kids, who are all staying behind in the care of the Eldest Brother, be OK?
• What if they stop me at customs when I come back? What if they don't let me back in the country? What if our money runs out?
  
• What if, what if, what if....

TO DO's:

• Shopping lists for kids to do Internet grocery shopping.
• Emergency fund for my friend Tina, in case the kids need emergency care.
• Get Tina, Faith and Marcia to phone the kids on alternate days.
• Arrange for the twins to stay with friends on weekends.
  
• Stock up on cat food, toilet paper and bread and milk.
  
• Arrange for a cleaner the day before we get back.
• Pack.
• Call a taxi.
• Get on the plane.

See you soon!

Foreigner

My heart is in tatters for Africa. The stories of Xenophobia are frightening and surreal, especially when one is so far away. This poem illustrates it beautifully. I will attempt to translate, with apologies to the poet.

New Zealand Mynah

Vreemde Voel Foreign Bird

Die hemel tuimel The heavens tumble
die blou lug en die wolke swaai en draai the blue air and the clouds turn and swivel
ek val I drop down
asemloos breathless
sinneloos thoughtless
leweloos lifeless

Ek het van ver gevlug I fled from afar
van haat, pyn en verminking from hatred, pain and mutilation
ek, banneling I, the outcast
Hier by jou het dit veilig gelyk With you it seemed safe
Ek het sagte musiek hoor fluister I heard the whispers of soft music
deur jou vensters through your windows
Ek dog in jou groen agterplaas I thought Bach's sheep could
kan Bach se skape veilig wei safely graze in your pastures
Ja, ek is anders Yes, I am different
met my skril kras stem with my shrill, loud call
my swarter vere my darker feathers
my parmantige wipspring stappie my arrogant, cheeky gait

My vrou krys en sy skel jou My mate screetches and scolds you
skel jou scolds you
skel jou scolds you
en sy skel my: and she scolds me:
“Staan op, staan op!” "Get up, get up!"
maar die plof van jou projektiel but the plop of your projectile
weergalm nou sagter echoes more quietly now
en dowwer ook die pyn and gentler too, the pain
en ek verdwyn as I disappear
ek, vreemde voël I, foreign bird

© 2008 Chris van der Westhuizen

(from My Kop op 'n Blok.)

NOTE: (In Africa the Indian Mynah birds are seen as intruders, and often shot by farmers.)

Summer 2008

For the holidays, we went to Russel for a couple of days. Paul treated us all to a cruise on Christmas Eve. We kept it a surprize, and the kids only found out when we went on board. It was a lovely old-fashioned tall ship, with wooden planking and canvas sails. For the whole day we sailed between the islands, and stopped off for a swim and a BBQ at lunch. What a fantastic experience! Poor Paul got terribly sea-sick, but the rest of us were OK. Have a look!

I've had to compress the video, so the quality's not great. Also, to watch the video, you will have to have reasonably fast Broadband. It's about 20 min long. Next time I'll make it shorter, but this was my first go with the new video recorder, and the editing software. Just click on the forward arrow. You may have to wait a while while it 'buffers', but it's well worth the wait! Promise!

I know it's a couple of months late, but I couldn't figure out how to get the video uploaded.