Positively positive

I am tired. Flippin’ tired — of all those folks who spend their days complaining, bitching, moaning, whining and whingeing about how bad it is in South Africa. A week or so ago, I had breakfast with a friend and her buddies. One of them — a platinum blonde with well-manicured French nails and a Prada bag — was explaining in detail why she was exchanging her life in Constantia for a new start somewhere down under.

“It is the bloody crime. It is everywhere,” she ranted, while sipping her skinny decaf latté. “South Africa is going down the drain. It will be even worse than Zimbabwe. Zuma is a second Mugabe. There is a genocide being planned against the white people.”

She said more, but I think it is better not to repeat these particular snippets of her tirade due to high levels of inappropriateness.

I asked her, while downing my full-fat double cappuccino, if she loved South Africa. “Of course I do! I am a proud South African,” she replied. “I will always be married to this country.”

I commented if it wouldn’t be better for her marriage to stay and put some effort in making this country a better place. By buying a Big Issue, for instance, or organising a fund-raising for a township crèche. She could volunteer a few hours a week at a school by giving typing lessons to young girls, or she could think of paying her maid a decent salary instead of pocket change. Perhaps she could consider sending her daughter’s nanny on some kind of a course to improve the girl’s CV and career prospects. She could drive her gardener to the train station, instead of letting the poor bugger struggle with public transport. She could join a march with the TAC or whatever, or clean out her walk-in closet and give unwanted content to the Salvation Army. Or she could join a neighbourhood watch. For instance.

Her reply (exact words): “Well, what do you know about South Africa? You are just a foreigner, after all! You know shit about this country!”

Having lived here for nearly four years, I can say with absolute certainty that I do know quite a lot about South Africa. I am therefore very much aware of this country’s challenges, the corruption, blackouts, incompetence within some government departments, inequality, crime, poverty, housing shortage, expensive petrol, unemployment, xenophobia, gender-related issues, HIV, TB, tik, education problems, bribery, poor public medical services and high telecommunication rates.

On the other hand, I am also very much aware of what this country has to offer: great people, marvellous weather, a fascinating melting pot of cultures, breathtaking scenery, a great sense of space, mountains, oceans, the variety of landscapes, the outdoor lifestyle, the warmth with which I was received in 2004, my friends, braais, biltong, road trips, the fact that a story lies on every street corner, the pride that exists among South Africans, the determination of many ordinary folks to make a difference, the fact that grandpa and grandma are not banned to elderly homes, African sunsets, the music, the dancing, the rhythm, the community spirit, the tolerance among religions, the non-existent rat race, and the constant possibility for change — and, of course, the South African lingo (“robots”, “eish”, “now-now”, “jou ma se …”).

The cherry on top is that I refuse to think that this country will turn into a second Zimbabwe and despite him not being not my type, I feel it is absolutely ludicrous to compare Jacob Zuma to evil Uncle Bob.

That’s right: I am positively positive about this country. Please note: I am so without blinding myself to the dark side. I too have been mugged and robbed. More than once, actually. The last time, the perpetrator — a chap on tik — pressed a knife against my abdomen. I still feel the cold steel against my skin. It was traumatising indeed, but it has not made me run for the hills. And, like most of you, I have clenched my teeth at the traffic department, cursed Eskom more than once and bitched at bad service. I have been brought to tears by Home Affairs more often then I can remember, and I have experienced “reverse racism” first-hand. This has not made me tumble in a pool of despair.

The reason? Bitching and moaning is not the way forward. My parents taught me that you can’t wait in apathy for others to fix what’s not in order in your country. Society is you, and you are the society. You therefore have a responsibility too. Sticking your head in the sand and running away to faraway lands is not the answer, especially when you are a professional. How can a country move forward when all professionals bugger off?

Last but not least, by slamming your country, you are automatically depriving it of a fair chance to succeed. You basically create your own self-fulfilling prophecy.

Amen.

PS: I am not by all means saying that bitching should be outlawed. Venting, screaming, shouting, moaning and kicking are necessary evils to get rid of frustrations. I do it too and I am sure that I will be caught bitching on TL on a regular basis. The only thing I wanted to say is that South Africa is more then most of you think. Take it from a foreigner who has seen a lot of the world, someone who has not been conditioned by fear and paranoia, and who is forcing herself to look at South Africa with an open mind.