I rose too early and showered, hoping that some freshening up would help me sleep again. I sat in my room and read and prayed but no success. I heard Helene in the kitchen so went out and chatted with her and Hugh for a while. They are a genuine down-to-earth Christian couple, both very busy and hard working.
Helene was preparing a beautiful breakfast of cereal, fruit salad and croissants. It looked very appealing and was especially laid out for Urshla and me. What a hospitable introduction to South Africa!Urshla arrived, looking casual in denim; denim because it was Friday relaxed dress day at work. We enjoyed breakfast together, still a little nervous but talked and discussed how the day would unfold. We planned a visit to her office to meet her colleagues. They already knew something about me from the things Urshla told them. I wondered what they knew. I would then take Urshla's car to her house, pick up her daughter Michele and view the town of Pietermaritzburg (PMB). It would include visits to the museum or art gallery and town hall.
During breakfast, a maid arrived to care for the house. It was only then I remembered that many South African homes employ a black worker for domestic duties. I'd heard about it, but I found it somewhat unusual to be in the presence of a maid. Having someone in your home to perform house duties is such a foreign concept to most Australians.
Urshla took me to her office after the delicious breakfast.There was great excitement at seeing Urshla and me together. We enjoyed a cup of rooibos and bantered with Lynne Orr, Krista and Jade. I used an office computer to quickly check email and search for directions to Urshla's house. While at the computer, I emailed Urshla.
I wrote "Get your work done and let's go away and forget that I have to go home in a few days."
It was another reminder that I was only a few steps away from the woman I loved.
I was somewhat amazed that Urshla would so generously loan her car to a foreign driver. I determined to take special care of the privilege. She owns a VW Polo, 1.6l manual. I found Urshla's home. It was a fairly straightforward drive from her office and I found her home easily. I'd already viewed it on street view in Google Maps. I knocked on the door and introduced myself to Michele.
Michele is very tall, a centimeter or two taller than me. She is a very pretty girl and generous with her smiles, very friendly and warm hearted. Michele walked me around their home. I was fascinated about rooms that I had only seen on Skype were now in a complete mental picture.
After another cup of tea, we headed into town. We had no set plan. Our initial intention was to find the art gallery, have a look through, then look over the town hall, reputed to be the largest red-brick building in the southern hemisphere. Michele was home from university after her second year of study. While PMB is the town she grew up in, Grahamstown had become her home. PMB had become slightly unfamiliar to her while growing accustomed to a new life in Grahamstown. We cruised into the city and looked at the main streets and passed by the art gallery. We moved on looking for a park. We travelled several blocks and turned into Church St, the main street. It was congested with cars, because of an incident on the street. We passed one or two police cars and an ambulance buried in a curious crowd, trying to see the incident. There were too many people for us to see, so we went a couple more blocks and parked the car. On the streets, are attendants who make a supplementary income locating empty parking bays and beckoning drivers to the spot. Once parked, the attendant can be tipped for his/her efforts. I gave the attendant 1 or 2 rand. It's a handy service, especially in a busy street with many cars.
Michele and I walked back into Church Street because it was bustling with people and street activity. I seemed to be the only white man, but oddly, did not feel out of place. Michele chatted to me and gave her thoughts and impressions of the scenes. Because she was relaxed and cheerful, it put me at ease. We walked the length of Church St mall, looking at street stalls and hawkers. What was once a pretty English style street, is now retail outlets and street stalls that is now a typical African scene.
There loitered any number of people. We were not accosted or approached by anyone, although a tall white man and a tall dark-skinned girl attracted many stares. I felt the street was full of eyes. I took a photo of a group of girls on a corner. They asked me R10 for the photo which I thought was a cheek. Then me thought turned, that if I was unemployed with few prospects of a job, I might ask remuneration for having my photo taken too. We looked at a couple of war monuments and commented on the English victories, took more photos of people, talked with random people and then walked across the road to the town hall.
In the park across the road, stands a memorial to the fallen English in the Zulu wars. I wondered to Michele, why there wasn't a monument to the fallen Zulu? The English I guessed from things I read, felt a great superiority over the natives and probably viewed themselves as the benefactors of the black people. Michele noticed wall paintings in the town hall that depicted whites walking the streets around the town hall. The paintings were dated 1983 and didn't reflect what was outside in the street in 2011. South Africa is certainly a country of contrasts and is changing demographically to black control, not always visibly for the better.
The time advanced to midday, so we phoned Urshla to check her schedule for lunch. Then we drove to Hilltops Office Park to join her. We sat on the balcony and arranged benches around a table to eat biscuits and crackers. I so enjoyed seeing Urshla and having lunch was such a pleasant thing to do together. We were still a little unsure around each other, but it was delightful to be with her. She mentioned how little work she was achieving, knowing I was close by. We chatted over lunch and recalled the morning's events. Lynn and Krista later joined us with their own Indian style lunch.
After lunch, Michele and I went to buy some munching food for Urshla's sister, Shan. Shan had been in hospital for three weeks after the birth of her daughter Ciorstaidh. The mall is typical of a western style shopping center, with a major grocery store and surrounded by many small retail businesses. To my surprise, there was a store selling hand guns and semi-automatic weapons. I was unaware that carrying weapons was permissible in South Africa.
Outside the mall, I spotted tree full of weaver bird's nests. The weaver bird apparently doesn't nest in the woven basket, but uses its weaving skills in a mating ritual to attract a female. The bird enters the basket through a hole in the bottom. No egg could possibly be laid because it would fall out through the hole. The bird has beautiful yellow plumage with a black face and lives quite happily near humans.Michele pointed out various places related to her growing up in PMB, while heading to the hospital. It was good to meet Shan because Urshla had told me so many things about her. Her new baby is a beautiful little girl. She was born by cesarean section, but the incision had become infected and delayed Shan's release. The maternity ward is kept at a warm temperature for the babies. It's effect on my tiredness though, almost put me to sleep several times. I just wanted to get to Durban.
The hospital is government operated and I found it in less than premium condition. Zulu women were in beds in other rooms, completely topless and exposed to the world. I remembered that Urshla had mentioned it to me previously.
It was great to meet Shan, but it was good to collect Urshla and prepare for a few days in Durban. We went to Urshla's house where I had a catch up nap then helped to pack the car. It was slightly awkward being in her house with her, working in her kitchen, but a chance too, to see how she lived her home life.
Since arriving in South Africa, I was experiencing an undercurrent of dislike for the country. It was the disrepair, dirtiness and tension I felt, that was probably the likely cause and the feeling persisted the whole time I was visiting South Africa. (If you're a South African reading this, please dont' think this is disrespectful. It comes from an Australian perspective.)
We headed to Durban after sundown and I drove. Urshla seemed comfortable with that, even though I drove in my usual assertive, got-to-get-ahead-of-the-traffic style. The highway to Durban is double and triple-laned and easy enough to negotiate. We were following directions from the GPS. I missed a turn near our destination. We were guided up a hill that was single lane. No lights, thick grass to the verges and it appeared like we were headed into risky territory. It was only a short detour and brought us nearly to the front door of the guest house Urshla had booked.
We unpacked and went to the Gateway shopping center, an extensive and modern sprawl. We bought pizza for dinner and enjoyed coffee and a relaxing time.
Later we returned to the guest house. I so desperately wanted to talk with Urshla, so I suggested the lounge. I so longed to hold her and feel her next to me, but restrained and enjoyed a couple hours of good conversation, while Michele went to bed.
We were beginning to lose our initial nervousness and fell into a comfortableness with each other. She is lovely company and Urshla seems to enjoy mine too.
I wondered how our relationship would develop in the following days and at the same time, concerned that our Christian journeys would clash at some point. But I always get concerned about things over which I have no control. It's a common human trait I'm sure.
I'm not sure why we stopped talking, but likely because we were both dog-tired and Urshla tends to fall asleep when she's warm and comfortable.
Next: Monkeys with a trampoline
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