A Tornado ride home to Kansas

Our journey started last December when Adrian was contacted by an ex colleague of his in Australia informing him of a job opportunity. Ever since the interview at the beginning of January we have been on a rollercoaster ride of exciting highs to devastatingly hollow lows.

After the chaos, stress and emotional intensity of last week I can finally say we are on the path to a new beginning. My last week in the UK consisted of numerous sobbing episodes saying goodbye to my special clients, friends and family. My sorrow was comforted by one of the packing men; a lovely tall Irish geezer with large wraparound arms and hands who whispered sweet words of kindness in my ear. Not only did their services include expertly wrapping each and every item in our home; their expertise included entertaining jokes,throwing over-excited children over their shoulders and 'madam' comforting. What a lovely bunch of geezers. If I believed in Heaven I would say they were sent to ease our burden at a time of such emotional chaos.

The flight was as expected. Long, very uncomfortable, ear popping and exhausting. Upon arrival in Cape Town after queuing in the 'foreign' passport control line (I am actually no longer a South African citizen. Apparently when I became a UK citizen I was supposed to have signed a form to keep my SA citizenship. Few ex pats knew of this unfair change in the law when it was introduced. Seems like we have been penalised for wanting a better life abroad?)and collecting our luggage I met my folks with tears of joy and exhaustion. The sun was soo shockingly bright I had to reach with squinting eyes for my sunglasses. The UK sun seems more yellow and hazy whereas the sun in South Africa is a bright white all-encompassing presence that quenches you whole. We all seemed to have come down with a nasty bad-ass virus and on the first evening Elly was puking through the night. I caught an awful head flu which is still affecting me with an irritating cough and underwater hazy ear feeling.

Coming home has been an utterly surreal experience for me. I can only describe it as living in a memory. I cant quite fathom that I am actually here. It has been 8 years since I came on holiday here for 2 weeks and 12 years since I lived here.
The memories I had were of me as a young care-free woman living life to the maximum with no fear. I now return as a responsible adult with 3 young children eager to let them experience the natural lifestyle I was blessed with as a child.

The first day I arrived we took the kids and my folks two dogs (a beautiful big black faithful Doberman called Nicholas and a loving pavement special hybrid Border Collie/Jack Russell called Dolly)to our local nature reserve.
The kids who were not used to the native flora of the Western Cape; pranced and hopped about as if on hot coals; moaning about the long grasses and sand in their shoes. It seems that the UK tamed my kids to the point of becoming little wooses. If you dont know what a woos is, check out this link. http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=woos I can assure you it is not the second definition.

The following day mom drove us over Sir Lowry's Pass (the mountain pass to the towns below). In all the numerous times I have driven over the pass I have never once failed to be anything but in awe of the sheer picturesque view. The majestic mountains have me bowing in spirit to their greatness. No photos I have taken could ever capture the uniqueness of the pass and the excitment of driving over the mountain. That day we went to a place called Monkey Town which is a sanctuary for monkeys (its all in the name). It also has a great childrens play park and swimming pool. Thereafter we went to my old beach haunt called 'The Strand'. Nothing much seemed to have changed over the years and I still recognised most of the buildings. Most of my memories of this beach include me as a naughty 16 year old in a bikini, flaunting off my body as only a teenage girl can do. Now 16 years later I cringe at the thought of exposing my white flab rolls to the world. Ageing is a humbling experience that slapped all traces of vanity from me. What a pity! I still feel 16 inside. I do have to admit that I am not the same person. I had the opportunity to dig through two dusty old boxes in the garage, each of which contained: trinkets, letters, diaries and photos from my teenage years. Talk about cringe factor! Reading through some of my diaries had me in fits of tear steaming laughter. I really was a typical teenager with irrational, selfish hormonal thoughts. I always thought that I was so cool and unique as a teenager and now I have actual proof that I was no different from the average zit infested brat that runs the streets today. As a lesson in humility and understanding I will keep my diaries in honour of my children. When I am pulling my hair out and taking strong narcotics to cope, I can always refer back to the diaries in hope of trying to understand them.

We are all still adjusting to the intensity of the heat. 12 years of perpetual miserable grey bleakness has taken its toll on our psyche and physical ability to bear the heat. On the very first day of arriving, little Genevieve got sunburnt on her arms. Thereafter we were much more vigilant applying suncream. One week later I can slowly start to see a healthy colour appearing on our white bleached UK skins. Its a lovely wholesome summer feeling being rosy and a healthier shade of pale, so to speak.

Mom and dad have been doing their best to make me feel at home and have been eager for me to re-establish a solid connection with my home country. We have socialised on a few occassions with their local friends. Lovely genuine special people who really know how to party. Being a boring mother of 3 always confined to the house I never quite had the chance to practice my 'partying' skills, however with my folks in the picture one can always count on a 'lekker jol'. For my UK friends here is a great site for all our South African words: http://www.southafrica.info/travel/advice/saenglish.htm.
I am afraid I learnt just how much of a woos I was on Friday evening when I consumed roughly two bottles of white wine at a wonderful local blues evening at Peregrine farm. I spent most of the night being violently sick and the next day a zombie. I vowed never to touch wine again and even the look of apple juice made me want to hurl. One day on from that and I was drinking my trusty red wine again. Considering my bodys inability to handle the demon drink, I may have to stick with my folks mellow home grown instead. May as well stick to what I am known for, a drugged up hippie ;)

During the week I was lucky enough to see two very special friends. The first was Gwen Hannay who introduced me to her most gorgeous baby girl of 3 months called Lily. The second was my most special soul connected friend Lisa and her darling little Layla Rose. What I have discovered with true soul friends, even after many years of separation, the chord still pulls and our minds follow the same rolling rivers to the sea of life; not once diverting into stale shallow pools.

I can finally say one week on that the dream memory state is starting to feel more real to me. I can pinch myself and discover that I truly am home in Kansas. Even my children are becoming little 'African children'. They no longer complain about the rough grass, stones or dirt. They run around naked with the dogs, dirt ingrained in their grubby nails. Their fascination with the gardener had me chuckling. They were never exposed to people of colour in our sleepy little seaside village. I am soo pleased that Eleanor has made such friends in her new temporary school. I am so proud of her for diving straight in to South African life. She is already thriving in a different cultural environment. This I feel will fully prepare her for the next change in Australia.

Living in the UK without the means to return home forced me to bury my deepest raw feelings of passion, love and excitement about South Africa putting me in a kind of comatose state of being. It feels as if I have been gently woken from a long coma and finally realise where I am and where I truly belong. I could never quite get the UK mould or perhaps I should say the mould was not suited to me. I did however find a small group of like minded people who did 'get me' and loved me with true understanding. I so wish I could fit you all in my pockets of life and walk you giantess-like through my culture and land of beauty. If only you could smell the fynbos. If only you could capture the mountain views. If only you could feel the hot baking sand between your toes. If only you could...
By no means am I slating the UK. The UK has been so good to me in a multitude of ways and I am soo very very grateful for being an honoured and valued guest for the past 12 years. This blog is merely a scribble pad for my thoughts to deal with the emotional highs and lows of returning to my source. This year is so exciting for us all and I have decided to fully absorb each countries experience and receive it as universal gift. Australia will be the next amazing adventure for me but as long as I have my shiny red shoes(aka: my pioneering spirit) and my little dog Toto (aka: my darling family), I am all ready and set for lifes big experience.