Category: emigration

Where are we going?

Posted on

The scent of emigration is in the air.

Not for us. We have no such plans.

But if you’re driving around the Southern Suburbs while going about your business on any given day, you will – without exaggeration – likely see at least one family upping and leaving the country; their belongings being loaded into a shipping container, probably headed for… well… where exactly?

I do get it. It’s not like SA doesn’t have its problems: crime, loadshedding, corruption, economic issues, BEE, poor governance, more loadshedding, some more crime and just an overall feeling of despair on many days.

But there are two points that I’d like to make here. Firstly, that SA isn’t particularly exceptional in this emigration thing. Maybe the reasons are different in each place, but no-one seems particularly happy at the moment:

70% is a lot of your young people. And it’s worth noting that Ireland is one of the destinations of choice for emigrating Saffas, too. (Aside: maybe that’s why the Irish want out?) But there are many less developed countries with high emigration rates: India, Iran, Albania, Bangladesh, Jordan, Zimbabwe, Nigeria, and… er, yes… Ireland.

SA is far from alone in people wanting to be elsewhere.

But then that brings me to my second point: where do these people want to go? Because, as Cape Talk’s Refilwe Moloto remarked this week:

Considering emigration? Where? ‘Cause the world is going to hell in a handbasket.
I understand why you want to emigrate, but the world is not what it used to be… It’s angry, selfish, and inward-looking. There’s this terrible psyche in the world now that goes, ‘Us first’… xenophobia… Brexit… right wing politicians across Europe…

I think she’s being a bit dramatic with some of that (although), but the sentiment is right. The grass is not always greener on the other side*, and even if it is a little bit greener, it’s clearly often not as green as many emigrants thought or hoped it might be. How much of that lack of verdancy are you willing to put up with, given the cost, the logistics, the emotional wrenching and just the sheer upheaval of everything in moving halfway around the world?

And how long do you have to be in your new country before you’re allowed to bitch and moan about it all the time on social media? Well, not very long at all, it seems. (Obviously, I’m not going to give examples here.)

What happened? Did you not do your due diligence? Were you ridiculously expecting utopia*? If you don’t like it, you can always come home. But here’s a tip: as I found out when moving to SA, the sooner you stop trying to make the country fit in with you, and rather just choose to fit in with the country, the better and easier is is to live your daily life without the constant stress of feeling like an outsider.
And any other approach is actually a little narcissistic, don’t you think?

But enough of my advice.

Because a lot of people leaving will obviously take the view that things will have to be really bad elsewhere before it’s as crappy as they feel it is here. But looking around (and even with my rose-tinted, glass-half-full mindset fully engaged), I don’t see anywhere that’s particularly attractive right now*.

The world is a bit of a mess at the moment.

* We’re not including Norway here, obviously.

Day 634 – Heat

Posted on

Usually, when bathing the beagle – one of the beagle’s least favourite activities – I have to wait until the day is warm enough for her to dry off outside. No-one wants a house full of wet dog.

Today though, I had to wait until it was cool enough to be able to leave her outside. And it seemed that she quite enjoyed the refreshing water. Even then, she dried off in mere minutes. It’s been one of those February days, but before Christmas. Perhaps just on the limits of what I can handle: 36C in the shade is too much for my pale, European enzymes.

The washing was dry before I could hang it up. The gardener melted early on, despite several (or more) litres of cold water and the offer for him to come back another time. I cooked the dinner simply by accidentally leaving it out of the fridge.

I’m hiding inside with a cold drink and I might hit the pool later this evening before watching the last bit of football for who knows how long…?

Day 415 – Let’s do this

Posted on

Have a become a bit soft in my old age or is it just a shifting of my thresholds because of my ongoing experience of differing geographically imposed conditions?

I’m down in Agulhas (alone) and it’s pretty miserable out. But it’s not that miserable. It’s wet and grey, but it’s not that wet and grey. (OK, it is that wet and grey right now.) And yet I found myself hiding inside (and even in bed) until hunger and a need for coffee dragged me out into the kitchen. There’s nothing wrong with staying in bed if you have no commitments elsewhere of course, but the outdoors is right there, and I feel like I should be in it. And this would be actually classed as ‘not too bad’ in my homeland and childhood. (Indeed, it would be described as ‘positively tropical’ in my early university years.) So is it that I’m just a bit soft now because I’m older, or is it just that I’m not used to it anymore?

And does it even matter?

I’m not daft: it’s absolutely pitching it down at the moment, and why would anyone – no matter their age or location – choose to go out in that? And in opening the front door to have a peek outside, there was a sign (quite literally) from above, as a scorpion fell from the door frame onto my head. We’re both ok. But I’m inside and much drier than him now.

But in the next window in the weather, I will get out and about: appropriately dressed for the conditions, obviously.

Meanwhile, it’s back to the cafetière and Mark Radcliffe on 6Music. Because why not?

Day 410 – A goodbye

Posted on

Friends of ours emigrated to the UK this morning. Everyone seems to be emigrating at the moment. So much so that I’m wondering if we’re going to be the only people left here soon. Almost a case of “will the last ones out please switch off the light”, although that happens fairly regularly anyway. This particular emigration was foisted upon the family in question by the economic effects of the coronavirus pandemic. I’m quite sure they’d still be happily here if it weren’t for the nastiness of the last 18 months.

But I digress.

I know how hard it is to leave friends, your family and your home country behind. I had a bit of last minute assistance in that regard in that the weather on my way down to Heathrow was absolutely filthy and most anyone who had the option to leave the country for sunnier climes would likely have done so as soon as they possibly could.
Cape Town was nowhere as near as helpfully persuasive this morning.

Eina. Fancy that being your last view (for a while, at least) of your hometown.

And then having to fly to Johannesburg. And then (eventually) to London. I mean, obviously, the place has its perks and positives, but sunrises over the Simonsberg like this? Not so much.

Good luck out there. I’ll keep the photos coming in case you miss the mountains.

Mainly waves and no RBOSS

Posted on

There’s a problem. Such was the weather yesterday (very sunny; very, very windy), that there was nothing to photograph except amazing waves, and just so much light and colour that it looks like I’ve RBOSSed everything.

Not the case, I promise.

If you’ve not been to Cape Town, I can completely understand that when you look at these images, you immediately think that I have gone mad with the sliders in Lightroom. I would never.

I remember being utterly astonished by the clarity of the light and the colour when I first came over here. Not every day, obviously – it’s grey and miserable today. I’m sure that there are other places in the world with equally amazing conditions, but I haven’t been there yet.

But I swear that yesterday, the turquoise really was that turquoise, the white honestly that white and the other colours genuinely were whatever colours they were. If only we could have enjoyed them without our eyeballs being ripped out by the wind and assaulted by the sand.

Still, great day out…

(Oh, and I know that I probably shouldn’t have monochromed that one photo, but I just have a nagging feeling that I’m going to need a dramatic B&W wave photo one day. As you do.)