But among the hovels, cheerfull conversations, bright colors, optimism, laughter, children playing with whatever rubble, and woman walking past with parcels on their head that make my knees crumble.
Africa moving from a bloodied past into changing its structure. Every white family has a black maid or two and a black gardener or two....what this space would look like without that is beyond my imagination, a mess I would dare say.
On the beach I must declare the blacks look great, the whites look white including me and not so great.
Public transport is something to behold ...these consist of mini busses that go criss-cross around town and suburbs ..there is a driver and an off-sider who yells where they are going while at full speed .and it works ..the bus stops and fits in another body who must know where the bus is going, like sardins in a tin ...after all it is cheap so the more bodies the more income..
At a petrol station or suprer market a bevy of small boys descend on your car or shopping trolley like ants and take care of everything for a few rand.
With the world cup soccer on next year the City is in a clean up and not before time ...when the council workers start to mowing a park land they mow all rubble as well..I must declare it is highly amusing to see all rubble fragmented into zillions bits ...its kind of a amazing decoration..and who says it should not be done like that!
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