SGSA: Culture and cuisine

Well, since culture comes from history, let's start there. SA history is, in a word: complicated. I can’t possibly do it justice here*, but let’s just give you the 60-second synopsis:

Cradle of humankind — pristine wilderness** — route to India — weird European politics — Portuguese explorers — Dutch settlers — persecuted French Protestants — English colonisation — Great Trek — bloody skirmishes with “the natives” — bloody Anglo-Boer skirmishes — Republic — apartheid — resistance — Nelson Mandela — 1994 elections — Rainbow Nation.

There. Are we all caught up now?

Our culture is as complicated as our history. But I'm too lazy to go into all that. To generalise, then: South Africans are friendly, outdoorsy and sporty. (Not me, though. Obviously.) Capetonians will tell you Joburgers are aggressive, money-obsessed yuppies who can’t drive; Joburgers will tell you Capetonians are sleepy, cliquey snobs who can’t drive.

There’s something of a class divide between the (more urban) English and (more rural) Afrikaans. There is, obviously, a class divide between white and black (and, for that matter, coloured*** – not the same as black, in SA – and Indian); there is also a class divide between the new black elite and the masses still struggling to stay alive and well in the townships, or the rural backwaters. It’s a very, very complicated country.

But you will notice one thing: almost everyone you see has a big smile. True. To my cynical friends back home: if you disagree, try leave the country for a few months, then go back. You will notice it. It’s amazing. Despite everything we’ve been through, SA is a happy country. (Where else would a dance serve as political protest?)

It's also a country that eats remarkably well. There is an Afrikaans word: “lekkerbek”. You might translate this as glutton, or epicure, depending on personal prejudice. But who wouldn’t be a lekkerbek with all that to enjoy?

In Cape Town or Joburg, you can pretty much pop into any random place you see on the street and enjoy a good meal (barring extreme bad luck). There isn’t, ostensibly, a strongly defined South African cuisine — we have the usual profusion of Italian, Thai, Japanese, Chinese, Indian, Lebanese, French, fusion, etc etc, but there are certain characteristic menu items: Malay curry, smoked snoek (a strongly flavoured fish), malva pudding, Cape brandy tart, Dom Pedro (essentially a whisky milkshake, or made with other liqueurs).

More deliberately South African fare includes ostrich steak (ostrich tastes much like lean, extra flavoursome beef; the chocolate-chilli sauce it comes with at Madame Zingara’s in CT is already legendary) and boerewors (a coarse textured, spicy, herby sausage). If you eat at The Ritz in Sea Point — a proper, cheesy, overpriced revolving restaurant, but with rather fabulous food, and you really can't complain about the view — you can sample crocodile carpaccio and Namibian gemsbok fillet. Afrikaans cuisine borrows from Malay and other traditions (with bobotie, for instance: a sort of crustless mince pie involving raisins, with egg on top) and is big on stodge and sugar. Even the vegetables are cooked with sugar, and koeksusters (essentially braided dough soaked in syrup) are toothachingly sweet. (I love them, obviously.)

Traditional African kos (food) revolves around a staple diet of mielie pap (maize porridge) and spicy sauce, with as much meat as can be found. Once upon a time mopani worms were eaten for survival when meat was hard to come by; now they're just a crunchy snack.

Biltong (smoked meat, anything from beef to springbok) is the number one bar snack and of course in Cape Town, there is an abundance of seafood (I especially recommend the calamari).

And don’t forget to visit the wine farms, the cheese makers, the pick-your-own orchards…

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* Plus, being a victim of Christian Nationalist education, I’m embarrassingly ignorant and am just now reading up to improve my knowledge.

** That is, it was bloody hard to get to.

*** An apartheid word for those of mixed race. The PC term these days is “formerly known as coloured” or something of that ilk, although generally “black” is preferred for all categories known, under apartheid, as “non-white”. Complicated, huh?

SGSA: Art and architecture

Being the Cradle of Humankind and all, we have ancient cave paintings, as well as tons of ethnic crafts (beading, weaving, carving etc – of course a lot of those traditional souvenirs you’re seeing were probably made in the Congo), and there are some rather powerful artworks that came out of the apartheid era (like the one above). And then (oh dear) there’s Tretchikoff and Beezy Bailey…

We’re a bit short on ancient monuments, although we do have at least one distinctive (and rather lovely) architectural style – the Cape Dutch farmhouse. Cape Town’s socalled Castle is a squat, pentagonal fort. Rhodes Memorial is a weird neo-classical temple that’s all about looking at the view, away from the building. Which I think is the main thing with the city: why look at buildings, when you could be looking at the landscape?

Oh yes, and Joburg has some skyscrapers and stuff.

Update: How could I forget? There's a rich performing arts tradition in all sections of SA society, from gumboot dancing and pennywhistle jazz (as borrowed by Paul Simon on Graceland) to physical theatre, a form we have made peculiarly our own. The Cape Town ballet is particularly good, too. SA has produced some brilliant literature, not so much great films. While Capetonians will tell you eagerly about their booming film industry, mostly that means foreign crews are using the city as a location — indigenous product is still scarce.

ps

While I'm talking into the wind, let me just say that it's raining, and I want to knit, and I have way too much to do, and Parcelforce sucks, and I need chocolate.

*sulk*

Huh?

Has Blogger gone nuts while I was away, or is it just me?

I've lost the ability to set time and date on posts. Plus, the BlogThis! button opens a new post window, but doesn't insert a link. Any thoughts on this? Anybody?

SGSA: Geography and climate

As mentioned in the introduction, we have quite a lot of both geography and climate. It’s a fair-sized country, but as far as most visitors are concerned, it consists of Cape Town, Johannesburg (Joburg or Jozi), game farms, and everywhere else. This is probably quite reasonable; Durban is our third city*, but don’t go to Durban. Seriously. Don’t. The streets are full of beach bums and the (small, pebbly) beaches are full of jellyfish. Plus, it’s insanely hot and humid. Skip it.

Joburg (climate: hot and dry in summer, with superbly operatic thunderstorms; cold and dry in winter) is strictly for living in, doing business in, or passing through. I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s a fabulous place to live – incredible weather, great people, brilliant nightlife. I just can’t ever think of anything to advise visitors to do. After all, you can’t spend all day in restaurants. Although I did try. (Actually, the theatre is excellent. But that still leaves a lot of daylight to fill.)

Cape Town — known as the Mother City, because European settlement started here — is quite possibly the best city in the whole world, ever. (I did warn you this wasn’t going to be an objective guide.) Unfortunately, Capetonians are aware of this, which makes them not only insufferably smug (I include myself in this statement) but also quite greedy. Prices have rocketed in the past few years, but it’s still a relative bargain for those with hard currency (the SA rand is a distinctly downtrodden beastie, poor thing). Frankly, it would be a bargain at any price, because just look at it! Spectacular mountains, forests, wine farms, beaches** and, oh yes, hordes of jaw-droppingly beautiful people. They’re all models, of course, and won’t deign to actually speak to you, but the ogling is good.

Also, CT (climate: warm to hot in summer, cold, wet and very windy in winter; extremely changeable and breezy all year round — it was originally dubbed the Cape of Storms, before some politically motivated rebranding as the Cape of Good Hope) has smartened up a whole lot from what it used to be, and is finally fulfilling its long-time claim to being “cosmopolitan” and “European”. Ten years ago, the V&A Waterfront was the big draw; now, head for De Waterkant. Named just to confuse Dutch speakers, it actually is a whole separate area — not all that close to the water, truthfully — and much, much sexier.

Cape Town is also small enough, and close to nature enough, to provide a lot of entertainment you might not expect from a "city". Go down to Cape Point, where smart-alec locals may try to convince you you can actually see the dividing line between the Atlantic and Indian oceans***, and you can spot whales (in season and with luck), ride ostriches, and otherwise enjoy the bounty of nature. (On a plate. With lemon juice and tartare sauce. Mmmmm.)

It's important to note, though, that you shouldn't actually try to get anything done in Cape Town. Firstly, why waste good beach time? Secondly, why waste the locals' good beach time? Centuries of sunshine and good dope have completely addled Capetonians' collective brains. (Again, I'm including myself in this.) As a group, we are friendly, cheerful, and pretty damn ineffectual. Need proof? Okay. Get in a car. Head downtown, towards the Waterfront. Near the beginning of the N2 motorway****, you will see a road to nowhere. Literally. There's a great big highway in the sky, that stops shortly after lifting off from the ground. Close by, but less often seen, is another. These were two parts of a flyover that never quite made it, because one of our sun-struck civil engineers made a miscalculation. Oops. That was decades ago. The road has of course been rebuilt, but the evidence lingers on. Obviously, pulling it down would be quite pricey, and besides, by now it's a landmark and source of strange pride for the denizens of Slaapstad*****. I do wonder, though, why nobody's used that structure to build, I don't know, a cool party venue or something underneath...

So much for the cities; what about the game farms? Well, there are plenty of them, to be sure, in all styles ranging from serious bushwhacking to keep-those-dirty-beasts-away-from-me luxury. Personally, I’m dead keen on the deluxe end – I’ll take cocktails, swimming pools and room service, please; hold the spiders, and don’t dare kick me out of bed for any of those ridiculous dawn game walks – but the downside is, a lot of those places are fairly low on actual wildlife. Still, if you want to trip over rhino****** just outside your own front door, while still enjoying five-star comfort, I know just the place. (Huge ants, though. Enormous.)

Oh yes, and of course there’s plenty of countryside that isn’t in the game farm category. Tell you what. Take six months off, hire a car, and call me for guidance. You might be able to fit in most of the must-see priorities. If you work at it.

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* Well, sort of. We actually have three capitals, and Joburg isn’t even on the list. Cape Town has parliament, Bloemfontein has the supreme court (and absolutely nothing else), and Pretoria has the Union Buildings (where they actually run the country from). But Pretoria’s practically a suburb of Joburg these days anyway.

** CT beaches are, however, a trap for the unwary. The most popular beaches – Camps Bay and Clifton, with the sunset views – are strictly for showing off your designer bikini, the one too expensive to actually get wet. If you want to swim, head to the other side of the mountain, where the currents won’t actually freeze the teeth out of your head. Boulders is nice. And it has penguins.

*** Actually, the oceans meet at Cape Agulhas, a fair drive to the east. But Cape Point does see the meeting of two ocean currents, which explains the warm beaches/icy beaches phenomenon.

**** I do believe it's also adjacent to Oswald Pirow street. Oswald Pirow, one of SA's more infamous statesmen, was basically a Nazi. While a frenzy of renaming has swept SA since 1994, this street appears to have been left alone. See? Sleepy Cape Town.

***** An Hilarious Pun. Slaapstad=sleepytown; Cape Town in Afrikaans is Kaapstad.

****** The friendly, square-jawed ones, of course. Nothing you wouldn’t want to trip over.

The Scroobious Guide to South Africa

In the 1980s South Africa was very much a global pariah. With sanctions and censorship both in full swing, we didn’t get to see much of the outside world, for good or ill. In consequence, the apartheid government drove a massive “stuff you, world!” campaign — creative efforts such as making petrol out of coal were aimed at proving, to South Africans as well as forruners, that we didn’t need anyone else.

One aspect of this was the tourism advertising slogan: “The world in one country”. Now that I’ve seen a (very) little bit of the world, I can confidently assert that this was an Untruth. Search as you might, you will not find the Eiffel Tower, nor the Great Wall of China. We’re a bit low on pyramids (either Egyptian or Aztec), leaning towers, ancient castles, grand canyons, igloos and such. So the apartheid state lied. (Frankly, I’m shocked.)

We do, however, have tropical rainforest, desert, mountains, rocky coasts and sandy beaches, buzzing cities, sleepy hamlets, hippie outposts, penguins, ostriches, elephants (including some that are small and furry), baboons (lots of 'em), flamingoes, eagles and a truly terrifying parade of insect life. We also have a history rich in heroes, villains and nutters, a glorious climate, and some of the best food in the whole world, ever. Join me, if you will, for the Scroobious Guide to South Africa — it may not be objective, but the research is frrrresh.

Post-holiday correspondence

Dear Cape Town,

My, but you've grown up. Love what you've done with De Waterkant. You're so sophisticated these days. So sexy. I mean, you were always fabulous, but wow. I'm impressed.

And you've done a great job of looking after my mountain. I do miss you, you know. Especially now you've shown me this new, smarter side. Trying to win me back? I could be tempted... Anyway, thanks for putting on such a great show while we were there. The weather! The food! (Actually, my thighs would like to have a word with you later.)

By the way, where was everyone? It was great not having to fight off hordes of tourists everywhere, but honestly, where did you put them? Are they really all in Plett this year? Or was it the fuel crisis keeping them at home?

Which reminds me. About that fuel crisis. And the weekly power cuts. Temper, dear! Isn't it time to put such childish things behind you? I know, I know, responsibility is so boring. But these adolescent tantrums... it just doesn't suit your new image, darling. Try to walk the talk, hm?

All right then. You're so lovely. If you really want me back, we might be able to work something out. But you're going to have to sort out that temper of yours. Oh, and you might as well know, until you can offer me fast, cheap broadband, it's just not going to happen.

Ta-ta, darling. Kisses. Love you always.

Scroobious.

***

Dear London,

Okay. I get it. You're in cahoots with Cape Town. The mothers — mine, Beloved's, the Mother City — pulled some strings, and you agreed to give me the cold shoulder. Bravo, well done and all that, you succeeded admirably. Grey skies, bare trees, gloom all around, very effective contrast with sunny SA. Tesco was a nightmare, you got that right too. Ambushing me with fights with Parcelforce and British Gas — bit over-the-top, no? But okay, okay, you've made your point. Now give it a rest. We're stuck with each other for now, so just deal, okay?

Okay.

Happy Christmas.

Scroobious.

Things to do in December

1. Rub my sister's incubating belly. Meet my nephew and godson for the second time.

2. Talk to much missed old friends. And talk some more. And some more. And have another drink. And keep talking. And see more friends. And so on.

3. Spend five days in the glorious African mountains, lolling by the pool, gazing out over valleys, watching wild animals, doing very little that can't be done with a cocktail in my hand.

4. Reassure myself that Cape Town is still there. Bask in its glory.

5. Eat my own body weight in seafood, at a stunning open air beach restaurant, over the course of a mellow and champagne-fuelled afternoon, for about the price of a pizza here in the Big Smoke.

6. Walk in the forests. Walk on the beaches. Wonder why I ever left.

7. Picnic in Kirstenbosch with waatlemoenkonfyt and Simonsberg camembert with green peppercorns.

8. Long evenings with glorious Cape wines, food* and friends, under the Constantia trees or overlooking the sea.

9. After three weeks of this, get back to London, and let my cats console me.

...Things I won't be doing in December:

1. Selling any more needles. But that's okay. We've done remarkably well so far. *happy glow* Roll on January...

2. Reading Tis the Season. More's the pity. You don't have to share my pain, though. Go forth and giggle!

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* Yes, it's ridiculous how much I'm looking forward to the food. Sorry, but SA restaurants are just so much better than in London. Really. Also, Simonsberg cheese, and konfyt. Mmmmmm.

Eureka!

I think I have discovered the secret of success.

Don't sleep.

This works on so many levels. First, you get more done. Second, you lose weight. Third... um, you get more done.

Right now, though, it's the getting thinner part that has me excited. I've just realised that when I'm sleep deprived (as I have been all this week), I feel slightly nauseous all the time and hence, no appetite. Is genius! I will be thin and elegant and successful!

Do not doubt the link between thin and successful. It's perfectly obvious. Especially, but not only, for women. Thin people get better jobs, get paid more, get more opportunities. They just look more successful. And appearance, we know, is all.

So from now on, I will stay up until 2am every night. Every. Night. And do lots of useful things (or at the very least, knit in front of the TV). And I will sleepwalk through my days being grumpy and sick, therefore more aggressive and less hungry. My first million can surely not be far away.

Doesn't sound like a fun holiday, though. Tell you what: I'll start this Success Strategy after my return. Meanwhile, sun, sea and sauvignon blanc await. Sleep, too. Mmmm... sleep...

Don't expect anything more to happen around here till Christmas. Have fun without me.