Sunday, May 22, 2011

Shoebills and Sculptures

I’m not blaming him but since The Ginger Prince turned two the weather has taken a little turn for the nasty, just as news of the heat wave in the UK drifted across the Ocean. There are still plenty of bright, clear days but when it does rain here it does it properly, in sheets and for days at a time, rendering most of our usual activities impossible. And because the houses here are built with no central heating and thick walls to keep cool in summer the nights and evenings can get pretty cold. I remember happily throwing away my hot water bottle in Scotland, never imagining for a minute that four months later I would be scouring shopping malls in South Africa for one.
For entertainment through the winter months The Ginger Prince and I decided to arrange classes for ourselves. Since websites for businesses do not come as standard here if you want to find something you have to dig around for it in shop windows, local magazines and libraries rather than just pump it into Google. Eventually I found a Tuesday and Thursday morning Playgroup around the corner for TGP and a Wednesday night sculpture class in Constantia for me.  TGP showed no resistance to trotting through the gates dragging his bag behind him into three hours of painting leaves, trampolining (sometimes naked) and generally behaving far better than he would ever do at home. Before snack-time, these two and three year olds have to sit still at table and then say grace before receiving their peanut butter on toast. Too much wildness will result in having to sit with their hands on their heads. Since TGP can’t really talk and almost never sits still I was amazed at what a brave attempt he made.
My sculpture class comprises of around five women who are guided through their individual projects in a converted garage/ workshop within the large garden of a local sculptor. Clay, firing facilities, music and red wine are all provided whilst eccentricity, imagination and plain speaking are encouraged. The first person I spoke to had brought her pet cockatiel with her and throughout the two hours we sculpted she told the story of how she had cried all weekend because this pet bird had barely survived a hawk attack. This sparked a strange and circular conversation about whether or not it is cannibalism for one bird to eat another bird and how (from the strident vegetarian) it was actually cannibalism for any of us to eat meat at all, and at least a hawk wouldn’t know any better. Perhaps a good time for everyone to sit with their hands on their heads and wait in silence. The teacher, floating amongst us and giving very good and constructive sculpting advice, mentioned in passing that she had a ‘’zapper’’ for when hawks tried to take her pet ducks. I was interested to know what a ‘zapper’ actually was but I didn’t like to ask, nor did I like to mention that AA works in birds of prey conservation. Instead, to change the subject, I asked the vegetarian, sitting opposite me and meticulously coiling and shaping a beautiful large nude, and the woman next to her, making Christmas Decorations, if they were both from Cape Town. The vegetarian was from Jo-burg, the other one from Cape Town. And the vegetarian told me with a shake of the head ‘’And Cape Town is sooo backward...’’ a comment which the other woman did not appreciate and she laid her Christmas Decorations to one side and loudly defended her home town before being told by the first woman to be ‘’careful not to get her blood pressure up’’.  This kind of entertainment, set to music with red wine and endless amounts of clay to get stuck into was perfect for me and I’m looking forward to going back for more.
AA has just returned from a week long work trip in which he descended on the Benguala Swamp in Zambia in a four passenger light air craft and stayed in a luxury tented lodge from which he could travel by river boat to bother Shoebills, 5ft tall birds with massive beaks who eat snakes and catfish, in one of the most remote parts of the world. With no electricity or phone signal in AAs tent we didn’t speak until he got back, like in the old days. Meanwhile at home I hosted my first ‘’bring and Braii’’, where people come round to your house with their own food and you BBQ it for them, officially the easiest way to entertain. Especially as I wasn’t even really in charge of the BBQ. Everything went fine until two friends discovered their car had been stolen from just outside our house. I drove them to the Local Police Station in which TGP happily made friends with the prisoners who were brought in.

Due to events on the other side of the world I have just become an Aunite again, and TGP a cousin. Nothing will make you feel further away from home than a birth in the family but for the moment I will have to just look forward to August when I'm back, and make do with Skype till then.
                            
                                                                
                                                                    Benguala Swamp
                                                                      Shoebill Laughing
                                                                Shoebill not laughing