The ultimate old-school comfort: South African farm stalls

A visit to traditional farm stalls is an essential element of any South African road trip. There’s something irresistibly enchanting about the smell of freshly baked goods, the authentic local staff and brightly coloured sweets in glass jars that make you long for days of old and, even if just for a brief moment, make you believe the rat race is just a vague rumour.

More of an experience than functional shopping

When you travel between the smaller towns in rural South Africa you’re bound to come across inviting farm stalls next to the road. And once you’ve visited one of these, you won’t be pulling into the parking lot of a mainstream franchise grocery store anytime soon while you’re on the road. The authenticity, rustic feel, fresh produce and warm ambiance of these farm stalls almost make you feel like you’re stepping into your grandmother’s kitchen rather than a shop. And more often than not, it is guaranteed that you will walk out with a few items or take a seat for some first-hand sampling of the goods, whether you need it or not.

A temptation of tradition that’s simply too strong to resist

On a recent road trip up the Garden Route I made a stop at a quaint coffee shop in Swellendam, a small picturesque town with a rich history and a whole lot of personality. After a thorough investigation of the menu, I decided on homemade lemonade and traditional milk tart – “made in a copper pan over the coals as in the olden days”, stated the menu.

Yes, I was a bit thirsty and, being one of those people who is adamant about having six or seven small meals every day, I could do with a bite to eat. (Whether milk tart qualifies as a meal or nutritious snack is of course highly debatable, but let’s not get caught up in the details now.)

The bottom line is however that I had some water and an apple in my car, but how could I not stop and order something when the beautiful stoep and massive oak tree that stands guard over the exterior tables, the jars of fruit preserves and packets of flavoursome fudge were calling out my name?

Experiencing the so-called good old days

After one sip of the tangy lemonade and one melt-in-the-mouth taste of the milk tart, I was in heaven. It was exquisite. I could almost hear the crackling fire as they prepared the oven and smell the warm milk as it oozes into the dish. For a moment I was transported to a time when everything wasn’t done in the quickest and easiest way possible. When ingredients used for cooking came directly from your garden, when families gathered around a giant table in the kitchen even before and after the actual supper, when creating something was just as important as merely consuming it.

Yearning for authenticity

Okay, I know what you might be thinking: There must have been something in that lemonade, because she is getting a bit too philosophical for a pit stop on a road trip… And you may be right – I might be drawing much more from this simple experience than necessary. But I am convinced there are many more like me: People who do love the thrills and excitement, diversity and technological advancements of modern society, but who sometimes want to savour something that wasn’t mass-produced, and do so without watching the clock. It is us people who stock up on buttermilk rusks and freshly made coconut ice and nicker balls for the kids (and for some adults too) and sip on tea and nibble on scones at farm stalls all over the country, simply for the sake of a culture of authenticity.

PS. I considered asking the waiter if I can get a tour of the kitchen, just to make 100% sure the milk tart was really prepared the way they promised, but I decided against it. I couldn’t bear the thought of it not being exactly like I pictured it, with a bright-eyed, sweating lady with hips as broad as her smile singing in front of the fire in her striped apron as she adjusts the coals. So I chose to believe my picture was true. That’s how I wanted to remember it.

Getting perspective on the peaks and perks of different careers

There are a few careers that spontaneously trigger a reaction of “how can  someone get paid to have so much fun?” But after the initial envy and frustration have settled, a deeper look reveals a different picture with less of a halo.

Traveling, eating gourmet food, meeting celebrities is a full-time job

The industry that mostly makes the normal 9 to 5 office-bound workers feel like they’ve seriously must have missed the boat is the entertainment industry. TV presenters of lifestyle programmes are an excellent example. They travel to exotic locations, eat first-class cuisine, get spa treatments, take part in adrenaline pumping adventure activities, meet celebrities and other interesting people, while having a dedicated team attending to their wardrobe and personal care at all times. But wait, there is more: Not only do they do all this at someone else’s expense, they get paid to do it! (And my guess is probably more than many of us sweating it out in front of a computer screen all day.)

Or [your dream here] is a full-time job

Before I go on, I need to acknowledge that this might not sound like a dream to every single person. You might have all kinds of queer food allergies that allow you to eat only unbuttered bread and sardines; you might have a fear of heights that makes you cringe at the mere thought of living on the second floor, never mind bungee jumping; or you might be one of those people that either hyperventilate or gape like a fish at a loss for words when you see a famous person. I am all for respecting diversity, but there are other similar careers that also fall in this category that can support my theory, like modeling. (And food allergies are probably not a problem in this field.)

Life does sometimes seem just a little unfair

Let’s get back to the point, namely that there are many careers that seem like loads of fun, filled with excitement and thrills, with lots of add-ons and benefits, and that (on the surface) simply seem less stressful, frustrating and mediocre than a mainstream office job. These jobs seem to boost you in sucking the marrow out of life, instead of draining all your energy and motivation, making you feel life is, after all, not that fair.

The proof is in the pudding

At this stage I must maybe mention that I’ve seen interviews with for example supermodels who have admitted there really isn’t much of a downside to their job: They get to see wonderful places, don’t have much stress and are looked after well. One actually literally said: “It’s not hard looking pretty when you are pretty.” (Now there’s an earth shattering statement if you’ve ever heard one.) I am therefore positive that this perception is not only an abstract thought in my mind.

Getting perspective saves the day

I am myself guilty of often idealizing jobs like these, feeling all the more dissatisfied with my career. But after revising my perspective on the situation, I suddenly realised I might be better off. Because if you have such a brilliant time while at work (which, as we all know, is most your life), what do you for fun? Where do you eat if you’ve just been the first one to sample the five star menu at the One and Only hotel in Cape Town? How do you relax if you’ve recently been treated with the latest hot stone massage technique at a spa fit for a queen? What concert do you take your loved on to if you had a beer with Bono the night before?

Having an ordinary job puts back the glam in glamorous

After all this mental gymnastics I felt quite satisfied with my job and all it entails. Not only that, I almost felt proud. Because at the end of the day, the stress and
challenges I have to deal with every day that on the surface seem mundane and wearisome, are teaching me invaluable skills that I can apply to many areas of life, add to my character and make me appreciate the small pleasures. And when I want to do something special, I save up a little money (as my budget of course does not allow for regular luxuries), go to a lovely restaurant wearing a new top I for once didn’t buy on sale and, who knows, I might even have dessert. And it will be a glamorous evening.

We weren’t made to be on a solo journey

There is a specific scene that I’ve seen countless times in a variety of films. In the greatest simplicity, with a telephone answering machine as the main actor, it symbolises how we were not really made to be alone.

You have no new messages

Let’s set the scene: The man or woman returns home from wherever they’ve been, puts down their coat or handbag, checks their phone for messages and is greeted with the warm and welcoming words of “You have no new messages.” Sometimes, they even push the button more than once to make sure it’s really true, as if pushing the button repeatedly might magically recall some requests for their company.

Often the directors chose to not even show the actor’s facial expression – you just see them vaguely from the back as they slowly make their way to the kitchen and ends up staring at an open fridge.

But what’s the big deal with being on your own?

Big deal, there are many single people living on their own all over the world, you might say. But what makes these scenes so powerful is the context. Often the character has a highly successful career, a caring family, many good friends, and even some admirers. So isn’t that enough?

One of the most satisfying answers to this question I’ve come across is actually a line from another film, Shall we dance?, starring Richard Gere. The question asked is “Why do people marry?” And the simple answer provided: “Because they want a witness to their lives.”

Sharing the good and bad of everyday life

What I like about this phrase is its brutal honesty. Let’s face it: Relationships and marriages are not sheer perfection from beginning to end. Sometimes there are uncomfortable compromise, conflicting needs, insecurities, misunderstandings, negative emotions – basically all the things that make us human. But even in this, there is at least someone to vent your negative emotions against, someone you can then ask for forgiveness and make up with, someone with whom you can share these ups and downs, the good and the bad of everyday life with, and who is your witness.

We all want to come home to someone

Even in a world with such a strong focus on individualism, loneliness remains a ghost that haunts the bravest of independent souls. Because at the end of the day, even though you might not need someone in the strict sense of the word, we all want someone to be there when you get home, someone who throws their arms around you and says “Welcome home, honey”, instead of being greeted with “You have no new messages”.

Our connection with the people around us

Apart from our friends and family, there are many people that are part of our daily lives – TV and radio presenters, supermarket personnel, newspaper vendors… And even though they may merely seem like neutral puppet-like characters, we might have a more intimate relationship with them than we think.

Only a face or a voice – or are they?

Most of us follow a daily routine: Driving the same route to work, shopping at selected stores that are convenient for us, watching specific TV programmes and listening to a certain radio station. In all of these things there are people we become familiar with, faces and voices and smiles we know, but that we often don’t regard as real people. Yet, when these faces are suddenly gone, you in a way feel like you’ve lost a friend.

My own disillusionment

I’ve learned this lesson quite often lately. For example, the other day I went to the supermarket during my lunch break and, as per usual, walked straight to the salad counter, ready with a smile. But when the figure behind the counter turned around and revealed an unfamiliar face, I knew I wasn’t going to see the radiant smile I know so well and the words “Cous cous salad, medium portion?” And for a brief moment, I felt a bit like a little child abandoned by his or her parents in a shopping mall.

Or when I got into my car one morning to go to work only to discover Mr. Quirky Sense of Humour who always presents the morning show is on leave. So I put on a CD.

Even at church legendary Uncle Bernie who greets everyone at the door with a firm handshake and bright eyes is part of the church experience. So when he wasn’t there one Sunday to greet me as “Blue Eyes” or “Dimples” (the two nicknames he has awarded me, even though my eyes are green and brown), one of the puzzle pieces of church family life was missing that day.

We are all connected

So what’s the moral of the story? That we should invite the deli lady for dinner next time we buy some cooked ham? By no means. Simply that we all are after all connected, part of a bigger picture with every person significant and irreplaceable in their role.

The Soloist: A reminder that we don’t always need to fix someone

The Soloist, starring Robert Downey Jnr and Jamie Fox, is a rich film that touches on multiple dimensions of society and the different relationships it is made up of. Ironically, the strongest lesson taught by the film is also the most simple: We don’t always have to try and fix someone; sometimes earning their trust and building a relationship is what they need most.

Hardcore journalist meets talented but mentally ill street musician

Based on a book by the Los Angeles Times columnist Steve Lopez, The Soloist tells the story of how Steve met a former classical music prodigy and Juilliard dropout who is now a homeless, mentally ill street musician, and the unique relationship that forms between them.

It goes without saying that the message of the transcendental power of music is a strong theme in the film. There is after all something magical about the moment when a hardcore, down to business journalist kneels with closed eyes on a dirty pavement when a schizophrenic street musician resurrects Beethoven with the cello while the traffic rushes by. But the reason behind this magic is something that runs even deeper.

A rags to riches story made in heaven

As the story develops, Nathaniel’s relation to Steve moves from being an idea for a story, to an intriguing character, to a person in desperate need of help.

Looking at the bare facts, it’s obvious why anyone would want to reach out to help Nathaniel: He is an amazingly talented musician who ended up on the streets because of a mental disorder – the only thing standing between his life as a homeless man and a successful music career. You can almost see the teary eyed audience giving him a standing ovation after he has risen above his circumstances and delivered his first official cello performance, a typical rags to riches story.

Sometimes when we try to help, we’re not really helping

However, the moment Steve directly addresses the cause of Nathaniel’s problems, encouraging him to undergo a psychiatric evaluation that might lead to the healing of his mental illness and consequently enable him to return to normal society, it creates distance between them. Actually, a whole concrete wall is erected between them in a matter of seconds.

I’ll leave it to the psychologists to explain the exact reason behind this. My guess is simply that it creates degradation: It sends a message of “you need to change, you can’t do it on your own, but I’m okay, so I can help you”. Just as there is often no dignity in asking for help, there is no dignity in being offered help without asking for it.

Simply being a friend is sometimes more than adequate

So at the end of the film (and for the years thereafter, according to the post scripts about the true story) Nathaniel is still only practising music on his own instead of performing in concert halls, living with the bare necessities and in exactly the same mental state as when Steve met him. Disappointing? On the contrary. He now has a friend, someone who believes in him and someone who supports his biggest and only passion: music. And that is enough.

Bruno Mars’ “Just the way you are” music video defies the song’s message

Just the way you are by Bruno Mars is one of those feel-good songs that instantly make you want to fall head over heals in love. That is, until you see the video. 

 Clever concept versus distorted perception of love

I was already including the song in my current favourites list, shamelessly humming it in supermarkets and on the treadmill in the gym, when I was encouraged to watch the video by my graphic designer colleague. “From a conceptual design point of view, it’s a masterpiece!” she said excitedly, knowing I appreciate clever design.

So I watched it and, yes, the concept is indeed amazing. But it would have been even more amazing if you could actually appreciate the conceptual genius instead of being distracted by the female actor in the video: A picture perfect model. How difficult will it be for any man to like a woman “just the way she is” when she has doe eyes, satin skin and voluptuous hair, to go with her swimwear model figure?

 Hurray! Society is campaigning for real love

 Needless to say, I was upset. But after my blood cooled a little, I scrolled down to view the comments. And behold, there was hope. The other viewers were all on my side, saying the video reinforces unrealistic perceptions of physical appearance and the importance thereof promoted by the media, misses the whole point of the song, and it would have been more appropriate to use an elderly couple who is still in madly in love, wrinkles and all. Ditto.

A new perspective on garbage: The homeless breakfast run

I’m an early bird who enjoys getting a work-out first thing in the morning. Consequently I’ve had the humbling experience of observing the homeless people in my neighbourhood on a very important day: garbage day, or to them, treasure hunt day.

 A new perspective on garbage

 Once a week the local municipality comes to collect the clusters of overloaded bins. Long before they arrive there is however another group of people who attend to these bins. But they don’t see it as garbage bins – to the homeless each bin is a treasure chest holding endless possibilities of bettering their lives.

 Garbage sorting is serious business

 I’m a firm believer in greeting people, even if only with a smile, when you pass them. But I’ve learnt that on garbage day, the homeless are not even aware of me running past them; they have serious business to deal with. They wheel their supermarket trolleys along in haste, constantly keeping an eye on their competitors in the race. They work with methodically and with precision. The sorting process is more efficient than a factory line. What can be used for shelter goes in the trolley, what proves to be useless goes next to the bin, what can still some of the panging hunger pains goes into the mouth.

 One community, such stark differences

 The most astounding thing about the homeless breakfast run is to realise the stark differences between the different segments of one community, found in every country and culture. After all, what better symbol of this contrast than a toothless man dancing with joy around another man’s garbage bin because of what he found.