Keep Calm and LOVE, South Africa

One of my very first blog entries was Keep Calm and Love South Africa. This time (prehaps aptly on Valentines Day) I'm putting the comma after love and before South Africa, because while we as South African's are all very good at loving our country, we aren't all very good at loving our fellow South African's (well at least not those who look different to ourselves.) We need to learn to LOVE. To love one another, to love our diversity, to love those who challenge the norm, to love the new things that we see on a daily basis.

Let me start by saying that it's taken me a long while to write this post. Even longer to post it. It's not only that heavy of a topic, but also something increadibly close to my heart...literally ;-)  Let me establish some facts up front:

- I LOVE this country

- I LOVE that not everyone is like some of the the people I decribe

- I LOVE a man that has a different skin colour to myself 

Back to the very beginning: I was born in 1982, into the height of the Apartheid era in South Africa and grew up in a small farming community in the Eastern Cape. I grew up initially attending our farms pre-primary school where I could play with my slightly older best friend, Veliswa and eat cheap digestive biscuits and drink warm milk fresh from the cow during break time each day. I learnt my nursery rhymes, numbers, days of the week, vowels, colours etc all in Xhosa.

At some stage and for reasons that I either can't recall or weren't explained to me at the time, I moved to the local English pre-primary school, where all my new friends were white and the quality of the tea time biscuits was slightly better. Around the same time my mom had to explain to me that Veliswa was no longer allowed to visit me in the afternoons to play, as her dad (who worked for my dad) now considered her grown up enough to help her mom cook in the afternoons. Her dad had also told her that the sea would "swallow her" if she went in it when she came to our beach house with us, but that another whole story! Our daily play dates ended and I was devastated.

Skip forward a few years and I remember the first black kids joining me at my "Model C" farm school. The parent body had taken a vote - Yes or No (as it was known back then) and they, collectively had decided to move with the times and allow non-white students into the school. Of course there were proviso's: the parent body had to hand select the students (and their parents) who "passed an interview." Enter Wendy, Elroy and Kiran...I still remember them all clearly. I was fascinated by them, because they weren't white like me, or black like Veliswa. Kiran and Elroy spoke Afrikaans - which, other than my obsession with American TV shows we were forced to watch in Afrikaans (unless simulcast on the radio) I had not heard before. Wendy spoke perfect English and perfect Xhosa.

My mom explained to me that Wendy's parents loved each other very much, but because of the rules that the government had put in place, they had not been allowed to get married before she was born as it would be illegal. I remember being sad for them, but also intrigued about how this all worked and how they were somehow "outsmarting" the system by having Wendy and only now being allowed to get married. The 30 minute drives to school, on horrible farm roads, undoubtably felt even longer for my mom as she patiently explained Apartheid's laws to me, her views on it all and how things would hopefully soon change.

They were my first exposure to a mixed race couple and I remember them both very clearly.

I want to say that I've always felt more comfortable with Black people, but prehaps that's too strong a statement. Generally, I find that I'm more accepted by people that I meet who are Black and as a result feel more comfortable around them. This being said, I was lucky in that I attended a boarding school where I was exposed to many cultures, races, languages and religions. Living side by side with people so different and yet so similar to yourself is a surefire way to open your eyes to just how alike we are and yet, appreciate the uniqueness that we all have.

 Fast forward a good few years and I find myself about to embark in a relationship after years of being single. Being the over-analyser that I am, I have a lot to think about: am I ready to open up again? Do I trust him? We're great friends but can I see this relationship being romantic? If I do, and this goes all the way, as I would want any relationship at this stage in my life do, am I ready to be in a mixed race relationship? I know my parent's views, but would this extend to me, their only daughter? Am I ready to have mixed race kids that won't look like me or have straight blonde hair?! I'm sure that you can imagine how busy my mind was for the week that I left my most amazing man stewing in anticipation over whether or not I'd reciprocate his now-voiced feelings. 

Ultimately there was no choice for me - I was too far down the road with him. I couldn't imagine my life without him in it. And deep down I knew that all the rest would be ok too. We were (and still are) so similar in so many ways that ran more than skin deep that I knew that the risk was well worth it. And anyway... I really do love cute dark kids with crazy afro's :-)

Fast forward a year and while driving home from our one year anniversary dinner, we turned on the radio and listened as Eusebius McKaiser (author of There's a Bantu in my Bathroom) asked the question on his evening talk show: can the number of mixed raced couples one sees nowadays in South Africa could be an indicator that we are moving past racial prejudices of the past?

The callers reponses were varied but generally positive. I'm not entirely sure that I agree. Yes - generally people are accepting if they know the couple or if they live in more "liberal" areas. What saddens me is that there are still people out there like the lady I encountered recently at a pub. Sitting at a table not even a metre away from me, she stared at me holding my man's hand discretely under the table, while telling her friend to look at us, claiming loudly "it's so disgusting." What I find disgusting is that she not only had these thoughts, but then voiced them...and loudly to boot! I tend not to be affected by the stares (because to be honest I stare at mixed raced couples too as I'm still intrigued by other people "like us") but hearing such narrow minded views trying to tarnish my love for someone based only on skin colour did hurt.

I've rewritten the account of this incident a few times now as the first couple of drafts were very angry and may or may not have included sentiments along the lines of : "Get with the times... or leave. Plenty others have and you are welcome to join them in Australia. This is a reality that you will not escape, a reality that will become even more present in your life as the years go on - prehaps even someone in your family (heaven help them!) will also find true love housed in a skin colour your don't approve of. But ultimately, this is a reality you won't escape so get with the programme ok?"

The reality is that we do all live here...and as much as I'd love to, I can't banish people like her to Australia (#joking!) I suppose that we just need to try and open the minds of those who share her views and foster a culture of acceptance and love in our societies.

One lady calling into Eusebius' show spoke of having been in a mixed race relationship for over 20 years and how those around her still notice the looks that her and her husband get, but she no longer does. I hope that it doesn't take me that long because I'm in this one for the long haul...