Moving is a dogshow. Whether you’re moving a continent or a mile down the road as we did, it’s unsettling and traumatic. Afrikaaners would describe it best. It’s kak. Two Marches ago, we lugged our brood to a new country - to a little terraced house in a close. Last March we lugged our brood to a bigger terraced house – in a fancy road within view of Windsor Castle. This March we lugged our bigger brood to a mid-size terraced house – in a middle-class avenue with no Castle views. Following current trends, next March, I will be in Antigua. With neither brood nor terraced house in sight. I’m only half joking.
Acknowledging that it's been two years since we left SA, I’ve been thinking a lot about whether the reasons for why we left still apply. Whether we’re still doing the right thing. Whether we’d ever go back. The former is easy to answer. Yes. The latter... not so much. It took a while, but now we’re settled. We’re happy. We miss SA terribly. Our family. Our friends. Our friends who are our family. The lifestyle. The culture. Places of meaning for us. But we’ll always miss those things. That doesn’t change. Ever. It’s a gnawing ache that fades as you forget about it while you’re busy with the business of life. But then it hits you out of nowhere. You hear a song on the radio that takes you back. You see something that reminds you of someone. You visit a place that brings back a memory. You experience things that you’d give anything to share with your loved ones across a continent. It takes your breath away like a punch to the gut. But you just learn to deal with it. And you get better at dealing with it the more time passes. But it never goes away.
There’s been a lot of negativity directed towards SA recently. The load shedding drama and the circus that was the State of the Nation Address. I am relieved that we don’t have to deal with these issues right now. And I feel guilty admitting this. I also feel guilty confessing that I enjoy living in a first world country. Free healthcare, good public transport, free access to good education, living with fairly non-existent crime. It’s like I’m disloyal somehow. Unpatriotic. Smug. That I think I’m too good for SA. And then I get irritated because that’s so messed up. Why shouldn’t I feel able to freely enjoy the benefits of this country? Like any country, South Africa has its share of challenges. This we all know. It is, however, an incredible place. Filled with people who’re unlike any nation in the world. People who are our people. I don’t need to list the benefits of life in SA. If you need a list, you’re not South African and have never lived there. Will we lug our motley trio of ferals back to the Rainbow Nation? We honestly don’t know. We didn’t know we’d be living in Britain 5 years ago, so there really is no telling where life can lead. We were presented with an opportunity to live in the UK. We took it. Do we regret taking it? No. Would we have regretted not taking it? Probably. But that’s the thing with regret. It’s like mould. It takes a while to appear – starts off small, patchy and not very noticeable. And then suddenly it’s everywhere. And it’s all you can see or think about. And you can never really get rid of it.
All airy fairy talk this is. What I can say with authority is that we all make our own decisions in life. Who our partner will be, if we choose to have one. What work we do. Whether we want children. Where we live. How we live. These are all so personal. So unique to an individual’s set of values and priorities in life. We all do our best and hope that this is enough. No one can predict the future. Not even Google. Well not just yet. We stand by our decision to leave SA and pursue this experience in the UK.
Everywhere I go over here though, I wear my South African-ness like a badge of honour. So do our children. Our accents (the children’s increasingly less so), the way we’re open, how we see the world and the people in it, our sense of ubuntu - these define us. They make us stand out. We’re proud of where we come from. And where we may, one day, return.
In the meantime, we march on. Towards spring! Embracing the good. Seeking out the positives. Dealing with the kak as best we can. Dreaming. Planning. Raising our children. Living life that happens. In any country.
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