Hallöööcheeen!

Not a very good night, as I was finally all warm, comfy and snuggly about to drop off into deep sleep, my bladder said “Hello? Wake up! Take me walkies!” Grumbling I got up ... as always that joke popping into my head:

Translation: Brain: “This is it” Back: “The perfect sleeping position” Joints: “Yes, absolutely” Muscles: “Finally!” Bladder: “Cooeeee! / Heeeellooo!”

Always makes me smile, even as I’m dutifully limping on painful feet and creaking hips to the white throne. The rest of the night was the same frustrating cycling through sweating, cold, sweating, cold. Part of me keeps hoping every time it’s finally Menopause as the monthly cycles are beginning to really frustrate me – my mother was in her early forties, and I’m already fifty.

As I left for work this morning, I noticed that more and more Alyssums are opening along the path, still only one, two flowers each, but soon I’ll have another honey-sweet field of white along the path! It smells so lovely!

Work is picking up again, another new task landed on my desk – I always prefer being busy, the more work, the better. But it will mean less time to write this blog. Do I hear a sigh of relief? But today I’m a little sleep-deprived – in part due to the cycling all night, but also because I drank Coke at the Braai. I’ll simply make it an early night tonight which should get me back on track.

Our gardener promised to come today, the only task I’d like him to do is clear more of the thick, heavy branches in that hedge, expand our rockery. Once that’s done, I let him do what he wants – he knows much more about gardening than I ever will! He always shakes his head at this crazy German who has no plan, just throws seeds into the beds and waits to see what comes up. He said he wanted to clean the courtyard, which I thought a good idea.

I got home and at first didn’t see any work done – though the drum is full! I’ve had the same when I had worked on that hedge of horrors – I’ve tried taking before and after photo’s, but the work is just not visible. Yeah, it looks slightly different, but that’s all. When I went for a closer look, I could see the work he’s done – since I’m intimately familiar with that place, having spent the past couple of weekends filling the drum with thorns from the same area.

My neighbour had baked cookies yesterday – yum, yum! I had to really restrain myself to not finish the whole lot in one go. Especially since I’m too tired to cook or even make lunch for tomorrow. Just showered, then had some smoked whatever for dinner – it’s only eight and I am ready to go to bed.

Games and a Braai

Lovely day – apart from the weather which turned cold today. I did only half the chores, since I got stuck in the game – again. I did the weekly tally, sent messages to non-performers (asking if there’s a reason and whether I could help). Also sent a message to the whole fellowship that I’m working hard to improve performance – I hope we don’t loose any more of our active fellows. Then I got busy looking for potential members – slugging through pages and pages of players, checking out those not currently in a fellowship to see if they’re still active. Rule of thumb is 15 applications lead to maybe 1 new member – I found only seven.

As a result, I was late for the braai – I tried to call, when I realised, but got no reply. The braai was a lot of fun! At the end I cut up the left-over meat and hand fed everyone who still had room for a snack! Only got home around eight, so no time for the second half of the chores. Now I better make my lunch before I go to bed.

Leisurely Saturday

Lovely day! Up nice and early so I got the dreaded shopping out of the way early. Since I’m going out tomorrow, I should do the chores today – so the one thing I didn’t do today, is my chores!

Instead, I spent some time working on a strategy for my game. I was getting stuck, because I haven’t built the new buildings I need to progress. And I haven’t built them, because I had no plan how and where to build them. So, now I have a plan. And I started building. Ideally, I should build 22 buildings, to progress fast – I’ve got room for 10 and the goods for only 3. So I’ve built the three while I’m growing the goods I need to build more. I have one more expansion, which is room for one more building. I’ll have to come up with another strategy when I’ve reached the current plan.

I also need to decide about expelling members of the fellowship, who aren’t active enough. Not active at all is easy, they probably stopped playing – but not active enough is not so simple. There’s one new member I’m a bit troubled about: Female name, male avatar. Claims to be playing daily, but isn’t visiting daily. Messages nicely, seems to be English, but doesn’t come into the fellowship chat room. Says she doesn’t need help, thank you – but obviously doesn’t understand a lot of the basics of the game. But she’s been playing for weeks, which I know of, if not months. I have a suspicion, but I don’t know what to do. It’s not fair to the rest of the fellowship to keep someone just because I think they need help.

Then I spent a few hours in the garden, weeding the tomato bed.

Removing all yellow leaves from the Nasturtiums, quite a lot of them are breaking out in colourful flowers now!

Weeding the new flower border – the first Alyssum started flowering!

 Some more of those pink-white flowers have come in bloom again! Dark pink this time.

There are still more of the yellow flowers coming up in the planter.

On my days off this week, I also attended to the pot plants on my shelf – it’s looking beautiful now!

The fennel is in bloom!

I had bought a new Fuchsia a while back, it’s now in full bloom!

My neighbour told me that she’s taken to feeding Silver, the stray cat that’s been hanging around for a few months now. So today I bought some cat food as well – cat food isn’t cheap! Of course, since I don’t have a cat, I also had to buy a bowl. I choose a bright pink one. We have no idea whether Silver has a home, we’ve seen her cross the street, we’ve seen her next door and when we were looking for her cat, we saw her in the yard of a house behind us. I say her, but we don’t know. She’s coming into my neighbour’s kitchen, stealing her cats food – and her tom firmly disagrees. She’s had to stop quite a few fights already. When I went out to give the leftover bread to the birds nesting in my roof, Silver was meowing pitifully, so I put out the bowl, filled it up and called till she found the way up the stairs to the bowl. She’s wary of people – so I went inside to let her eat. But I had to take a photo, which didn’t disturb her despite the flash. When I looked later, the bowl was empty! Not even a crumb left! So I filled it again and left it outside.

Weisswurst for breakfast

Phew! Finally! I slept like a log – no longer like a baby! I even heard the alarm – though I ignored it. Coming to work on time only on a Friday is not a good impression to make.

One of our guys was in East London for a long weekend and he’d brought us Weisswurst from the German butchery there – which our electrician cooked for us for breakfast! Even had a jar of sweet mustard to go with it! He had also bought a separate 2 packets of Weisswurst plus a jar of sweet mustard just for me, even though I had forgotten to specify before he left!

The weather forecast for the weekend is not so nice, it will be cold the whole weekend, then warm up again on Monday. I’ll wait and see how it turns out before I decide what I’ll do this weekend. On Tuesday I planted two Gem Squash and two Lemon seeds in a glass – a new project, where I want to photograph daily progress. I didn’t take any photo’s, yet – there has been no change. On Sunday our electrician has invited us to a braai (BBQ), so that’s something to look forward to.

I think the car got confused with all the on-day, off-days this week – the radio was still on when I parked.

Get a Skype message from some guy wanting to get to know me. Declined. Get another message. He’s looking for a wife because his 14-year old son wants him to get married again. So I waited an hour before declining again. Only reason I’m writing about that is: nothing else to say.

Good night!

Off again

Bad night. Just before I went into deep sleep, the pain along the side I was lying on woke me up again. Last time I checked it was nearly two in the morning – but I woke up only a little late, so off to work I go. Or not. Flat tire. Front tire, one of the two I’d told my boss (who owns the car) needed to be replaced – six months ago! So I decided there’s no time like the present. Boss – as usual – doesn’t answer the phone, so I call the workshop and ask if they can come out, change the tire as I wasn’t feeling up to it. Good thing, too, since the jack in the car is missing a part. I couldn’t have changed it even if I had wanted to.

So they changed the tire and we drove to the workshop, which wasn’t too busy so I waited while they put on two new tires, replaced the leaking shock-absorbers and did the wheel alignment. I’d called work to let them know I’m not coming in today, and why. I was back home around eleven or twelve. Headache and dead tired, but if I sleep during the day, I won’t sleep tonight.

And to make sure I won’t wake up in pain again, I used an old trick: when I didn’t have enough cupboard space, I would ‘store’ the spare blanket on top of the mattress, under the sheets.

Had a lovely half-hour phone call from my first site manager – he’s in the states now, so it was his lunchtime. That’s one of the reasons I love my job: you meet people from all over the world, and sometimes you just connect and make friends. Good friends. Some of the people keep in touch – but that’s not everyone’s style, and that’s cool. But with most of them, when you meet up again you just take up again where you left off.

Took a couple of photo’s of the sunset – enjoy!

Back at work

Another hot-cold-cycle night. Woke up tired and late, but went to work. Low on energy, but better than yesterday.

The German site manager came back yesterday – when I gave him his ‘welcome-back’ hug (something I introduced to the formal German site) he quipped even his wife doesn’t show that much affection when he comes home! Germans tend to shake hands in greeting – every morning! I found that a bit strange, since South Africans just greet either verbally or with a nod or a wave, but don’t shake hands every morning. On the first project, I started hugging some of the closer friends on site – and I’ve expanded that to colleague’s I’ve grown fond of. It’s a very un-German thing to do – it’s also not a South African thing. It’s an AA thing, I’ve brought to work – and, once they’ve got over the strangeness of it, most of them actually like it. And since I’m in an age-group (i.e. OLD!) where hidden agendas are on the decline – it’s accepted as the fond gesture it is intended to be. He also brought me German Chocolate, so, just for good measure, I hugged him again! Although we’d worked together nearly three years in East London – on that site, he never grew included into the fond-of hug group, so it’s new to him.

I’m not feeling too great, just low energy and a mild migraine, so tonight is a strict schedule: Fill the drum (as they come to collect tomorrow morning), shower, dinner, bed. Early to bed, allowing for extra sleep time in case the waking-up-cycles continue.

It was six when I finally finished filling the drum. Of course, first my neighbour and I filled three bags with her cuttings (we share the drum, there’s cookies in it for me) and then, although I wasn’t feeling too well, I kept deciding to cut just one more, and one more, etc. You know how it is when you start cutting, you just want to see progress and just keep going, regardless.

Now I’m having dinner – at eight. Sigh, time flies when you’re busy!

I got an sms yesterday afternoon, informing me of a funeral service. It came from an unknown number and I didn’t recognize the surname – but I did recognize the church. So today I called a friend and he confirmed that it was a fellow from Pretoria North. While I had the friend on the phone I asked about all the old-timer friends we have in common … and learned just how many had passed away since I first left Pretoria in 2012! You know what makes me angry about that, however? All the friends in common – and not one of them has had the courtesy to drop me a line, let me know. Remember that rant about communities calling themselves family? Yeah. I come across as aloof and arrogant – which is the defensive wall I build around myself. Right now I can’t tell for sure whether that wall-building is past or present – I do know that I’m working on it.

Why take down a defense? Because I’m wearing big-girl panties now. I can deal with betrayal, lies, disappointment, being used. But my ‘defense’ also hurts good people – based on not only bad people, but also on misunderstandings. And that’s me letting bad people and misunderstandings control my life. Been there, done that, ready to grow up.

Sick day

Off sick today. Not very surprising, really. I’ve been waking up throughout the night sweating for the past couple of days. Throw off the covers. Wake up freezing. Snuggle under the cover. Repeat. Most nights have been just one cycle, last night several. It was past nine before I finally surfaced, so I called in sick. This would be a perfect opportunity to catch up with some housework, except that I am actually not well. I put a load into the machine, wash and dry – if I’m not up to it, I can leave it, I don’t iron anyway. Back to bed.

Mix some poison, treat my Poinsettia. Back to bed.

Re-pot the Thyme, inspect the Chives. Back to bed.

Dinner. Bath. Back to bed. Wheee! What a fun day! Can I do this again, tomorrow?

Cultures and Parasites - again!

Splendid sunrise this morning, though I didn’t take any photo’s. The weather forecast say a minimum temperature of 12°C today – I wonder why the car’s thermometer only showed 4°C when I parked at work?

Someone asked why I don’t complain to the management of FLM – if they don’t know of problems, they can’t address them? Simple: when you see how many goods have no price-tag (neither on the shelf, nor on the item); you frequently stand at a service point as the sole customer having to wait for the staff to get around to assisting you (on every service point!) – that’s clear indication that the lack of service is a reflection of management’s lack of interest. And in my experience, any attempt to communicate with such management is futile or at worst, when you – the customer – are told how unreasonably difficult you are, it’s aggravating. It’s the way of the franchise-business – all blame lies with the ‘system’ and no matter who you find yourself talking to (Manager, Owner, Head Office) the blame is always somewhere else and at best they simply agree with you, that it’s no good. Period.

On the other hand, there are stores where managers come up to you, if they see you looking for assistance or having a problem, and ask how they can assist; and then take action. Those are rare, however. Vincent Superspar in East London is one such example!

Something interesting happened last week, which I took a while to process before putting it in writing. I use the staff ladies room in the factory, which is predominantly used by the cleaning staff. When I first arrived, there were unpleasant incidents, with the staff deliberately walking into me, pushing me aside – never aggressively or painfully, merely rude. I understand that in their culture, a woman with no husband and no children is at the bottom of the hierarchy – and I had, without thinking, ‘given away’ my low status. Hence the treatment – I was disrespectfully behaving as an equal. Last week, I respectfully waited for one lady to move aside so I could get past her when her friend started screeching at her to get out of my way. Evidently they have discovered my age, which I neglected to state at the beginning – hence also the change in behaviour I had noticed, the ‘walking into me’ incidences had stopped. This cultural hierarchy is less rigidly observed by the tribes I’m most familiar with – but the Xhosa are extremely hierarchical. I must remember, in future, when I’m being asked whether I’m married and whether I have children, that it’s not a question of interest, but a determination of status – and it’s important I claim the status allocated to my age.

When I lived in Durban, some twenty years ago, I had a discussion with a Zulu colleague about cultural differences. During the discussion, we each tried to show respect in the other’s culture: In my culture, looking someone in the eyes when talking to them is a sign of honesty and respect; in his culture, not raising your eyes to meet the eyes of someone is a sign of respect. So I tried to look down, while he tried to look me in the eyes – and we both failed utterly! Since we each respect the other, our own cultural show of respect kept showing up.

South Africa has a vast variety of cultures, with eleven official languages – and so many foreign languages – spoken here. Sadly, Sign Language is not an official language, even though the deaf community have all the characteristics that define a culture. And Sign Language is not simply English with hand-signals – it is a separate language, with its own grammar, accents, everything defining a language.

When I got home I was glad to see my neighbour in the garden – she’s feeling much better! The gardener didn’t show up, so now I have to fill the drum in the evenings, sigh – when? Tonight I had to make the Frikadellen, since I use pork mince and I can’t leave that defrosted too long. I also defrosted some bacon for the Bratkartoffeln, so I’m making them tomorrow night. But it all takes time – and I still want to eat at a reasonable hour. But the really, really hard part is tearing myself away from chatting with my neighbour!

While watering my plants, I discovered that the Strelizia have also picked up some parasite – fortunately the leaves are big and smooth, so I could wipe everything off quite easily. Also, the Nasturtiums are showing signs of something wrong – some of their leaves are crumpling, even my neighbour has never seen anything like it! All these parasites and diseases are beginning to p*** me off! On the other hand, considering just how neglected this piece of ground has been for how long – with everyone using it as nothing but a big dumpsite for whatever rubbish they need dumping; I guess it’s not really surprising that all the parasites are now coming out! Unless, of course, they came in the compost – but the compost is coming from two completely different sources. And all my pot plants are infected, as well – and they have no compost, nor are they in the garden. I’m close to my wits end – and it wasn’t a short stroll! I have two more options: 1) I can spray everything with the pesticide the Nursery sold me to treat the white fly. But that would mean I can’t eat my herbs – Sage, Fennel, Parsley, Oregano, Rosemary, Thyme. The Chives and Spring Onions are still unaffected – strange, that. 2) I can take the photo’s to the Nursery and ask their advice. But what I’m not doing is giving up! I’m a resilient kind of beach!

Well, the Frikadellen turned out well, though, since I don’t use bread to bind them, they tend to fall apart. I also use Celery instead of onions. Tomorrow night: Bratkartoffeln with left-over Frikadellen!

Spring-clean Sunday

I had invited my neighbour for lunch, unfortunately she is ill – so I embarked on a spring-cleaning mission. Vacuumed every room, steam-cleaned the kitchen floor – inch by inch, plus the usual. Laundry was a bit delayed since the washing machine is at the far end of the kitchen. Of course, by the time I was done, cooking was the last thing I was in the mood for! So that will have to wait for tomorrow night. I’m leaving my shiny clean kitchen shiny and clean for another 24 hours.

Garden again!

Interesting incident at the Petrol Station this morning: My card got declined. Not once, not twice, three times. Then he tried a different machine, still declined. He called a Senior Attendant. Declined again. Then the manager was called. Again declined. And the amazing thing? Everybody stayed polite, even apologized for the delay – no assumption that I was at fault! Since it’s a company petrol card, the manager asked for my boss’ number. I don’t think he answered, though (bad habit of his) but the manager then called the bank, who – or so I’m told – did something, and now the payment went through. I thanked the manager for not taking an attitude, he thanked me for my patience and apologized for the problem. I said that it wasn’t his fault anymore than mine and we wished each other a good weekend. So, you can still receive professional treatment! Grin, just don’t expect it.

Staying with the car, it was tootling to itself again when I entered the garage. For some reason this happens every weekend. Every Friday the radio is off when I park the car. And then, standing still, motor off, it decides to switch itself back on at some point. So most Saturday mornings I come into a musical garage! There are two loose connections – one, the interface, which keeps dropping off every couple of minutes while driving (VERY irritating!) and two, some loose connection somewhere behind the panel. And that one disconnects and then re-connects when the car is parked! I always have to keep in mind that, if that happens on a Saturday morning, after shopping – I must check on the car throughout the day, until the radio is back on so I can switch it off with the car: or by Monday morning the battery might be drained.

I had a lovely time in the garden, not that there’s much work really. Another tomato plant kicked the bucket, the Nasturtiums are doing well, though. So well, I had to firmly insist they stay off the path.

Glorious detail!

Looks a bit like the open maw of a fiery dragon, doesn't it?

The flower we’ve been waiting for weeks to open … seems to disagree with the rains this past week. It’s open, but wilting.

In the planter, the yellow flower is still the only one open, though two more have joined the first.

I planted a new vegetable in the vegetable patch – and it’s got a new parasite! Totally different to all the past ones. It is seriously exasperating!

A few of the flowers from last week are still open, though most have finished blooming … for now.

And here’s the pretties from last week.

Custom - service - business Then and Now

On my way to work, my mind turned down some depressing avenues – comparing Then with Now. It’s still buzzing around in my mind, so maybe I should get it out.

When I was a child, we were encouraged to put our allowance into a bank account, deposits were free, the money was safe and it was earning interest. I remember one such drive, where for every DM20 you deposit, you’d get a piece of a puzzle – stick that onto a poster, and when it was full, the bank would pay you DM20,- I also remember, when I was studying and I had a bursary, I would be paid the full term’s bursary at the start of the term (I would have to pay all study fees and books with that, plus live off it for the term) and I’d deposit it into a savings account, which would earn notable interest and I could live off the interest alone! To get a loan, you would have to prove that you can budget responsibly – and don’t have any outstanding amounts owed (such as hire-purchase, or monthly payment plans now called ‘accounts’ at stores); in other words you would have to prove that the bank would be paid back the money you’re asking to loan!

Now, depositing money into your account costs as much as withdrawing, interest rates in favour of customers are half the rates in favour of the bank – and my Savings Account earns just over 5% interest; which basically just cancels out the monthly bank charges. And rather than encouraging a positive bank balance, banks encourage excessive negative balances – increasing your credit limit without your input hoping to tempt you to go into debt. Getting a loan is only possible, if you are deeply in debt to many institutions – the more accounts you have, i.e. the more monthly installment-payments you are committed to, the better.

And no bank is interested in opening an account to deposit cash, a savings account – you must show them your salary-slip and as many accounts as possible, or they simply show you the door.

Twenty, Thirty years ago, loyalty was treasured. Going to the same restaurant, you’d be greeted, get you preferred table and service would be sure to be good. Returning to the same book store, you would be assisted quicker and more efficiently. Every butchery knew your tastes – and occasionally your loyalty would be rewarded. At banks, the manager would be available to you when you’ve been a customer for a long time. Clothing stores tried to entice your loyalty with lay-by options and offering short-term payment-terms.

Today, if you try to extend or renew an existing agreement – specifically with cellphone providers – you will be charged extra for that ‘privilege’. If, however you start a new agreement, you are eligible for a whole variety of special offers ‘only to new clients’!

This makes no sense to me. This whole modern drive to ‘attract’ new customers at the expense of existing, loyal customers? I’m still old-school – and I do stay away from stores where I’ve been burned too often; I give always a second, even a third chance but that’s it. There’s an old article, which is as apt today as it was thirty years ago, when I first stumbled across it:

Remember me?

I’m the fellow who goes into a restaurant, sits down patiently and waits while the waiters do everything but take my order.

I’m the fellow who goes into a department store and stands quietly while the sales clerks finish their little chitchat.

I’m the fellow who goes into the bank and stands in line patiently while the teller tells the previous client all about her holiday.

I’m the man who drives into a petrol station and never blows his horn, but waits patiently while the attendant finishes reading his comic book.

Yes, you might say I’m a good guy, but do you know who else I am?

I’m the fellow who never comes back. And it amuses me to see you spending thousands of dollars every year to get me back when I was there in the first place.

And all you had to do to keep me was to give me a little service and show me a little courtesy.

Anon.

These days, that is a silent and probably unnoticed protest – since nobody cares who their customers are anymore, we’re all just numbers. Franchises don’t close – only small shops do. And for every customer lost, new ones stream through the door ... And those thousands spent on marketing and advertising are simply added to the prices, so loyal customers end up paying for mismanagement.

Yet at the same time every shop, store and franchise has some sort of ‘loyalty’ program (you know, all those ‘earn points’ schemes, requiring special cards)? On the one hand, if I had the time, it could be worth my while to get all those cards, and include that into my budget – but it would also mean I would get absolutely swamped in spam – e-mail & sms’. After all, that’s the whole purpose of those schemes – to gain access to spam and, of course, to play with numbers (trends, forecasts, etc). All of which are added to the price – and since all big business is doing it, and small business’ have been eradicated ... there no longer is such a thing as market choice, it’s all a sham, the truth is monopoly.

Years ago, front-line staff received extensive training to accommodate every possible customer request – and today? They don’t even have a grasp on common courtesy! When they bark ‘Do you have our store’s special card’ at you, they sort of freeze, like a program requiring input to continue – then turn to chat with any- and every colleague in sight making a point of ignoring your existence. If you ask a question – unless it is routine – they have no clue and glare at you for daring to impose on them! When an item in your basket has no price-tag, rather than rushing to make up for their negligence – they start shuffling off, stopping for chats along the way, with no apology. Replacing such staff with automatons would make the experience only more pleasant for us customers, since all humanity, all personal touch is already gone. Complaining to ‘the manager’ will more likely lead to you being labelled a ‘difficult customer’ than any improvement or apology. Even when mistakes are made because staff were more involved in the chat with colleagues than listening to the customer.

Today front-line staff receive minimum training – barely enough to deal with basic routine requirements. Faced with a non-routine situation ... for example, I went to a small shop to buy some home-made items. Their card-machine was offline. They did not say anything while assisting with my requests but waited until I wanted to pay. And then they said “You must go outside, down the road to the ATM, draw cash and come back.” Yeah, good luck with that! I followed part one “Go outside” and never returned. Ever.

I once ordered a back issue of a magazine at CNA. When it arrived, I was given a piece of paper – I don’t remember what it was called – and told to go pay. I stood in the queue – which was long, and getting longer by the minute – until it was my turn. Then I produced the paper to pay. The cashier mumbled something, I asked her to repeat, she did. I could not understand what she wanted, and asked her to explain. At this point she told me to go ... somewhere, I could not understand what she was saying. She became quite rude, treating me as if I was a criminal, trying to ‘get-away-without-paying’ making a scene in front of the long queue behind me insisting I must go – waving her arms somewhere towards the back of the store. Eventually a ‘manager’ came over addressing me with equal rudeness, adding her weight to the ‘shady customer’ implications then insisted I go with her to the back, adding more weight to the ‘shady customer’ scenario – with the whole queue glaring at me with contempt. It turned out what the cashier wanted was the Order Slip, only she didn’t know the correct name – and it wasn’t amongst the papers given to me, but slipped between the pages of the magazine. Instead of an apology for the scene they had made, or the lack of knowledge of their staff, I was given a lecture about ... sorry, I didn’t listen. Guess what? Yep. That was the last time I set foot in a CNA! I used to be a regular, buying books, stationery, magazines – now I get everything online. Except stationery – for that I prefer to go to local, non-franchised business’.

Thirty years ago the suggestion to sell bottled water was laughed at – and now? Companies brazenly claim that water is not a basic human right, it should have a market value and be privatised. Now you see everyone suckling on their own, private purchased water bottle.

When the internet first gained momentum, in the days of dial-up modems – the cost was purely that of a local phone-call; and special contract options were available reducing the call-costs to encourage use. The costing structure was identical to the telephoning structure – dependent on time and distance; with special after-hour rates.

And now? In South Africa the only affordable option for the majority of the population is to purchase a fixed amount of data. 100Mb, 200Mb, 1Gig, 5Gig, etc. An uncapped ADSL Line is beyond Joe Average’s means, since you pay an exorbitant amount for the installation, plus the router (both once-off, though) and them monthly fees for the line PLUS additional fees for the data-service – and always a minimum twelve-month contract. So, for South Africans, even ‘pirate downloads’ are not free; they cost about the same as a purchased DVD. But do you know the most incredible audacity of these ‘disservice providers’? The purchased, pre-paid Data comes with an expiration date! If you have not used the data you paid for, Service Providers delete ALL unused data off your account! Every single month!

Similar scam with pre-paid electricity. The ONLY effect of installing a pre-paid meter is to give the municipality control over your geyser! There is no advantage. None. And I am stumped how the majority of home-owners were duped into installing this crap?

Thirty, even twenty years ago, ‘I’ll take my business elsewhere’ had meaning – but today, it makes no difference where you take your business, it all flows into the same pocket at the end of the day.

Twenty years ago, I had a patch of garden outside my flat. I planted some tomato seeds, then watched with pleasure as they grew, bloomed, formed tomatoes! They grew as big as my hand, and were delicious!

Now, the plants need daily pampering, are prone to disease and wilt away. Of the three packets of seeds, less than ten plants survived – and the fruits they produced are small and several of them tasted rather mealy. Yes, I do get a lot of pleasure and joy out of gardening – but I am rather disappointed with the results! The flowers give me more pleasure, I’m afraid.

The world is changing, the weather is changing, people are changing. Change is natural, and people are not naturally opposed to change – it is the imposed changes we object to. Changes happening without our input, which we are forced to accept. And looking at all the changes, trying to grasp the big picture – I feel a steering, directing control. How fast did cigarettes go from desirable luxury to filth-status! That feels like a message. To whom, though?

It was bad enough when lung-cancer sufferers were treated with contempt – as if lung-cancer was a self-inflicted disease! But to treat all smokers like we are a sub-species?

The witch-hunt is in full swing! Soon they will come with pitchforks and stakes!

I remember clearly, watching the news on 11 September 2001 and seeing the news manipulation as it was happening! The story changed, as it continued – and I’m not referring to new information, I remember wondering ‘But they just said the exact opposite of what they are saying right now?’ And channel-hopping watching how other news-channels caught on to the manipulation and started to follow suit! THAT to me was the most frightening aspect! People were dying, jumping to their death even – and someone was issuing instructions how the world should think about it. It was subtle, step-by-step, I remember at first I thought I must be mistaken, but then it happened again. And so subtly, that I could not give you specifics – even the next day, I could not pin-point the changes.

That changed my mind about conspiracy theories – though not my lack of interest in them. Why? Because I am a little person, living a little life and I am old. I lack the idealism and ambition to do ought but live my dull, little life. And I have spent too much of my life depressed, feeling every bit the futility and helplessness of my little life. At times my mind still travels down these well-worn, familiar avenues; though now I look, but don’t stare. I don’t loose myself in the depressing aspects, I always balance with the joys and pleasures of my life. And not matter how little a life I may live – all life matters. My life matters. Every avalanche starts with a snow-flake – who knows which snow-flake? And what does it matter which snow-flake? I no longer need any status or claim-to-fame. I’m happy being me – I have everything I need, and more. So my acts may have no effect, and may be just as little as my life – but they are mine! Changing the things I can helps to accept the things I cannot change. And that’s the path to serenity.

So I just hope that I’ve gotten it all out of my system now, and go back to my cheery little posts about flowers and jokes and little joys and pleasures!

My job - all sites to date

Well, I added very little cold water to my bath last night – it took quite some time for me to slowly submerge myself and my skin turned fiery red underwater! On the plus side, when I got out, I had a steaming hot body!

I woke up early today, for a change – and when I arrived at work on time, our electrician looked at me and joked “Oh? I wouldn’t have expected to see you here this early. Are you now on early-shift?” Now that the office is filled with mostly German staff, from the principal contractor, the atmosphere is much more pleasant. My job is difficult to explain, there is no simple label which can give a real feel. I’ve been trying to paint the picture on several occasions in the past, but always deleted it, since I’ve not yet managed to capture even the essence.

Let me go back to my very first day. 23^rd February 2011. Having been informed, that I was selected from all applicants and got the job, in December 2010 – I had no information regarding start-date! They knew I had to give a month’s notice – but every attempt at getting some definite date resulted in nothing but vague ‘we’ll let you know.’ Also, in the interview, I was promised employment with the German company – but they reneged on that, too. The managing member of a South African company, who had also been involved in the interviewing process (I later learned that it was he, who advised to select me, rather than the more ‘corporate secretary’ interviewee) stepped in and took on my contract – for two years. At the time, I thought it was a bit of a raw deal, since I had accepted a lower salary on condition that it would be reviewed after three months – which wasn’t related to the South African company. In January 2011, my boss gave me the go-ahead to hand in my notice; which worked out very well for me, I gave notice effective 1^st February – and had enough leave days accumulated, that I could take the entire month off, with pay. And since I moved on 1^st February, this gave me the time to unpack and settle in before starting full-time. I still couldn’t get a straight answer out of anyone – and then, on 22^nd February I got a call instructing me to come in tomorrow!

Crap timing, since I had planned to spend the 23^rd with a friend, as it was her birthday – but work has first priority. So, I got up and showed up. An automotive manufacturing plant is big. It’s never one single building, but several blocks with streets, buildings, factories, a canteen – more like a little town of it’s own, so after I got through reception and walked to the first crossing, I wasn’t sure anymore where I needed to go – called my new boss, told him where I was and asked him to come get me. I quipped, when he arrived, that standing at a street-corner in a red top, I’d received some interesting offers! He took me to the container office, introduced me to the site manager. Since they weren’t set up for me, yet, he then showed me around – the empty factory where the line would be built, the plant they had worked their last project, then took me through the access-card process before dropping me off at my office. Where I sat, twiddling my thumbs for about an hour – being told there’s nothing I can do, since the PC hadn’t arrived, yet. And then I had had enough: After months of jerking me around, reneging on their promises and now, on the one day I actually had plans, I’m sitting here collecting dust like a spare piece of furniture? So, I got up, walked up to the site manager and told him “I’m going home now. Call me when you’ve got some actual work for me!” turned around and walked out. On the way to the gate, I called my employer and informed him – he, too, was in shock and hearing that, I began to realise just what I had done! I literally risked my job here – and jobs were really hard to come by. But done was done, I’d have to live with the consequences.

They called me to come in from 1^st March onward – the PC had arrived, been set up, and I started working. The only consequence was, that I never got paid for the 23^rd – something I never raised with either site manager or my employer.

2009-10 had been the worst years of my life – but 2011-12 became the best years of my life! Site work is unlike any office work. A lot of what one takes for granted, coming from a structured office, is simply not available on site. First of all, there is no HR structure to introduce newcomers to the basics – the only Induction on site is Safety Induction a legal requirement given by the client. You’re haphazardly introduced to the staff on site, as they pop into the office – with little or no clue who they actually are. At one point I looked up into a crowd of new faces, names and handshakes – I just had this big, fat question mark on my face! There is also no job description, no clue what my tasks or duties are – everyone would simply ask me to do something and I’d puzzle over the how and why. Everyone is extremely busy, setting up their work, co-ordinating requirements – nobody really has the time to train some local site secretary. The site manager was very good, and he soon earned my respect – something only one other superior ever had! He’d show me as much as he could, time permitting – then left me to figure things out for myself, always available to assist, but never interfering, or micro-managing, controlling how I do what needed doing.

I was seriously worried whether I would ever be able to cope, as well as worried, whether my knees would allow me to keep the job (in my last job, I was tied to the desk – here, I had to walk lots and lots, and for the first month, each step was painful – not the muscles from lack of fitness). Then the site manager asked me to go with him to get a cable-TV contract (it’s DSTV in South Africa) so he could get the Formula 1 races – I’ve been an avid F1 Fan the past decade, though with the move from open channels to pay-channels, I no longer had access to watching the races. So, once all arrangements were done, I invited myself to his place for the race! And then thinking set in, and I kind of realised that I’d invited myself into the home of a married man outside work-hours ... which I figured was not quite appropriate. A few days before the race, another colleague arrived from Germany, and he’d also be there to watch the race – and I collected every smidgen of courage I could find, got in my car and showed up! Best decision I ever made!

I later learned that he’d also had some doubts about the only female (and an unmarried one, at that) on site joining the hard-core F1 fans – but it turned out that we complement each other perfectly! They had all the knowledge of the drivers and specifically all the technical data at their fingertips, whereas I knew the latest Rules and Regulations to a tee – plus, of course, since they couldn’t access the German commentary, I could always translate – especially with David Coulthard’s Scottish accent – when needed. The first race was just the three of us, but later we became quite a large group; though the core-group remained the same. Being part of a social regular-feature helped tremendously in gaining acceptance – as I learned how they think, what they expect and how things work. Also, the site manager was a five-star chef and we would all work together and chip in to enjoy a fantastic meal with each race. I would obtain some of the trickier ingredients – particularly what was only available at the German Butcher and German Bakery (I’d take everyone’s private, plus the F1-Group’s orders on Fridays, and go shopping every Saturday, since I was in the vicinity anyway). Boy did we feast! Although it only showed up after this project, I’m convinced the 10kg can firmly be blamed on the feasts we had then!

Being older than all the married men on site, also helped – I could flirt naturally (I am a flirt!) without any misunderstandings. Weeeell, there were occasional disagreements over my unavailability – but nothing I couldn’t handle.

As site secretary, my work is involved almost exclusively with the German principle contractor – supporting their staff on site and communicating with Head Office in Germany. As a result, most of the local staff on site assumed I – like everyone else from that company – was living in Germany, and visiting the site only for the duration of the project! I’ve lost count of how many times I was asked: “When are you going back?” “Back where?” “Germany!” “What for?” “Home!?” “My home is here?!” Or how many times local contractors made comments in Afrikaans – receiving quite a shock, when I replied in the same language! A lot of the Germans also learned to understand Afrikaans – but the locals don’t need to know that. Snigger.

It’s a fairly unique work environment. The principal contractor usually manages all areas, with support from a host of international specialists plus some local specialists. It is an exclusive industry, though, so there is no chance for local specialists who are unwilling to travel internationally – so the market is quite small. As a result, since the law requires a certain percentage of local ‘ingredient’ as they call it, the labour force (i.e. manual labour – electrical and mechanical construction / installation) is almost exclusively local. So the Management is usually German. Assigned to the project from start to finish – in 6-week steps (i.e. they are flown out to South Africa, work six to seven days a week for six weeks, then fly home for a week; then come back to repeat the cycle). Those with families back home opt for this – and those without families, prefer to save up their flights to bring family to visit them here. They only fly home either for holiday or due to Visa requirements. They work hard and they play hard. But since they are all foreigners here for the same reason – that builds a kind of family-like relationship. The first arrivals to a new location always pass on what they learned to anyone coming here for the first time, show them around, introduce them to the local establishments (yes, I chose that word deliberately!), etc. Often, they know each other from past sites, past projects, or simply from home.

There is no brief way to really describe this – so bear with me.

I’m proud to say that I have earned full membership of the team, even though I’m the only non-technical female, even though I’m not employed by the Germany Company, and even though (though I know the correct wording here should be: because) I don’t drink.

It is still a point of dissent, my sobriety – a lot of the guys don’t understand what alcoholism is, and since it’s my problem (not theirs) I don’t force explanations on them. Some ask, and since I’m passionate about my sobriety, I launch into extensive monologue (yeah, no space for any word-in edgewise); but most hold on to their own views and beliefs. I’m very fortunate that I can go to pubs and parties with my guys, without even the slightest feeling of temptation. I can’t take credit for it – it is not my doing. I am still powerless over alcohol and that will never change. I ALWAYS take stock of my spiritual condition before I consider entering any environment where alcohol might be present – as long as I’m spiritually fit, and the purpose of my entering that environment is truly social, I don’t have to fear alcohol. The whole point of sobriety, at least for me, is freedom from the slavery – and living in fear is not freedom. There are, however, occasions when I can not afford to go near any alcohol. For example, when I am emotional – like I was after my mother’s death, or after the armed robbery. At such times any pubs or anywhere alcohol is available are absolute no-go zones!

I’m very open about my alcoholism, at times maybe even inappropriately so. In my drinking days, I lived every day in fear of something I had done when drunk catching up with me; I lived with secrets and lies. The path to sobriety involved facing those drunk (and sober-between-drunk) actions, taking responsibility for them and making amends. Or to put it visually: taking all my skeletons out of the closet, dusting them off and putting them on display. It was a painful process. But the reward was complete freedom from the perpetual guilt, shame and misery I had shouldered every morning for over a decade! And if I want to keep that freedom – I keep my words in line with my actions (Integrity) and stay honest in everything I do and everything I say. And continue to take responsibility for my actions – owning up to mistakes, apologising if some thoughtless comment hurt someone (whether the hurt was intentional or not is irrelevant, and there is also no such thing as denying entitlement – i.e. ‘you shouldn’t have been hurt’). And for me, it also involves openness about my alcoholism – simply because it frequently leads to interested questions about alcoholism, which in turn allow me to share my experience, strength and hope – which I must, if I want to keep my sobriety! Although I’m still as passionate as ever, when talking about alcoholism and sobriety – I’ve learned to reign in the fanatism, which has opened the door to many follow-up, in-depth questions without the fear of me launching into another sermon. (Two paragraphs is really brief compared to the pages-and-pages I used to fill!)

Like I said before, I’m very proud to have earned full member-of-the-family status. And a site is indeed more of a family, than a team – since we’re all new in town, and all helping each other during and after working-hours. And it was earned, through willingness – since I have no family, I can always work to the job, not the clock – availability – again, having no family works in my favour, allowing me to collect new arrivals at the airport (Yep! Picking up strange men is part of my job) – reliability, trustworthiness and tempered respectability. And it’s not simply ‘earn-one-earn-them-all’ respect – I’ve had to work on each member of staff individually, earning their respect. Nobody would pave the road for me – which is the German way. After all, if I can’t earn respect, I don’t deserve it. Sure, I’ve made mistakes – one whopper comes to mind, when I ordered 50 millimeter instead of 50 meter of a specialised cable – but admitting and taking responsibility for my mistakes is what earned me respect. I will admit a mistake at the time I realise it – not wait until it comes out, maybe hoping that it won’t. But I’ve also achieved what was thought to be impossible, on occasions. Like finding a supplier of a specialised, scarce material – when all the local contractors and specialists in this field claimed it was not available in South Africa. Of course, being proved wrong by a mere secretary did not endear me to them. Or getting a visa extension – when every professional Immigration Lawyer said it was not possible, the employee would have to fly home, apply for a new visa, and fly back. It was a key employee – and the time-loss would have cost even more than the flight-and-accommodation costs. My site manager negotiated a bonus from that employer for my achievement – and we all had a super party! Or the time I reduced an insurance payment from R25000,00 to R2500,00 for a colleague. All above board and legal, nothing dishonest or shady.

It wasn’t all fun and games, though – there was a lot of hard work, long hours, some out-of-line attitudes, bruised Egos (mine got a turn, too). There were tears (not mine, this time), sweat and some tantrums. There were late hours, Sunday call-ins, late night calls-for-assistance – and learning, learning, learning! Health and Safety Act, Safety Files, Immigration Law, Visa applications, work Visa requirements, Access requirements, Import- Export Procedures, International Banking, Carnets, Guesthouse requirements, Rental Car Contracts the list goes on an on! Let alone grasping what the project is actually about, and how everyone fits into the whole!

We had forged such a strong team on that first project, we tried keeping the team together and on to the next project in South Africa: East London! Alas, that was not to be, though.

I got lucky, my employer had a contract at the East London project – though with a different principal contractor – and asked whether I’d be willing to re-locate. I said yes so fast, it made his head spin! Getting out of Pretoria and back to the Indian Ocean? Hello Paradise!

So in September 2012 I moved to East London. It turned out nothing like the last project or the last site. The company my employer was working for operated on very different – in my opinion, much lower – standards than the company I had been used to. More attitude, Egos and juvenile behaviour, less responsibility and competence – in my opinion. My boss also gave running a Guesthouse for the international staff a try – with me managing it; which meant that for the first three months I literally worked from five in the morning until ten at night – predominantly doing the laundry for the ten-twenty guests which arrived before our cleaner did. The site-work was – to put it mildly – unpleasant. Once their project manager arrived, my ‘place’ became to complete his daily to-do list ... print this, type that, etc. He literally wrote a detailed to-do list for me, from which I may not deviate one iota. The most challenging task he gave me was to get everyone’s breakfast order!

I got lucky, though. The company I had worked for before also arrived, and the secretary they had employed did not work out – so they asked if I was willing to work for them again! Again, I said yes so fast it made my boss’ head spin! Site Secretary is not everyone’s cup of tea. At the start of a project it is a high-stress job, setting up office, assisting in Visa Applications, putting together a complete Health & Safety File from scratch, co-ordinating the arrival of containers – it is chaos! Nobody has time to show the secretary what to do or how what needs to be done – and I’m lucky I arrived AFTER that initial chaos on my first site! Plus, having been on a site until the end, I had all the experience of how what needs to be done – and, since I’d been in town a few months already, knew what the current client needed as well as what's available locally. I had a head-start, so to speak. It also takes a special kind of personality to cope with a foreign site – and even though the site itself is local, it’s local for us. From the site-staff’s point of view, it is a foreign / overseas site. These guys have to find their feet in a completely unknown environment – where to stay, how to get to work, where to eat, where to get their laundry done, how to get a landline into the container-office, get stationery, basic consumables like bolts, nuts, tools – while at the same time getting the office set up, getting internet, creating a rapport with the client, schedules, personnel plans, arranging Visa’s, getting the basic Health and Safety requirements to be allowed onto the client’s premises, etc. etc. This is no place for a corporate secretary – not matter how qualified, experienced or professional! It takes a special kind of crazy to not only cope, but excel in that chaos. And I’ve got what it takes!

When I first arrived in East London, I applied every trick I had learned from the guys how they find their feet in a new location. So, by the time I joined the team – I had a lot of information I could pass on. And, having worked for this company before, I knew how to assert myself – and most essentially: When assertion was needed. Earning respect is part-and-parcel of my stock-in-trade; although I also know that people exist who simply have no respect. Teaching them basic manners is also part of my stock-in-trade, something I also learned from the first site manager.

After the strong team, and especially the strong management on the last project, East London was rather a let down. A lot of micro-cliques formed with the professional groups – and since I’m not part of any professional group, I was grateful that the electrical group included me a lot. Whereas in Pretoria, at parties, everybody mixed with everybody – here, everyone stayed in their own little clique with little or no interaction. The site manager was also new to foreign / overseas sites – and took a long time to warm up and get over the ‘professional aloofness’ he insisted was essential to maintaining respect. A lot of bull, in my opinion – it may be appropriate on local sites, where you work within driving distance of your home and family, but overseas sites are a completely different kettle of fish. Incidentally, he’s now part time on the current project, here in PE – Mr ‘That’s totally unacceptable / Gassi gehn’ hehe.

Apart from the electrical group (which included German Mechanics and Pneumatic Engineers) I had no social life in East London. The guests in the guesthouse I was running came mostly from the juvenile site and had very little, mostly bad manners. They demanded twenty-four-hour five-star pampering whilst complaining about the no-star prices! They also knew that I was working full-time on site – yet expected I must be at their beck-and-call at any time of the day or night!

On a positive note, I fell in love with East London! The place, it’s history, it’s locales – I could spend hours exploring every nook and cranny on sunny days, photographing the same buildings, stretch of beach or sight over and over again – and on rainy days, reading the history, the background, the story of every aspect relating to East London I could get my hands on! It was the first time in my life that I felt – coming back to East London – ‘I’m home’! Every time! And with my work-hours cut to two days a week from around mid-2014 onward, I had a lot of time to explore, research, sift through every scrap of information available in the local libraries!

I ended up the last-man-standing in East London before, reluctantly, moving back to Pretoria in July 2015. My boss had some exciting plans which should keep me busy until the next major project would start in Pretoria. That didn’t work out, so when I received a call asking whether I’d be interested in joining the Uitenhage project – I, again, said yes so fast it made my boss’ head spin! After some prolonged negotiations and discussions to determine when I should start – it all happened quite suddenly. One day I had an afternoon meeting with my boss to press him to set a date – only to find myself on a plane headed for Port Elizabeth less than 24-hours later!

Funny story: As I was rushing towards the plane, at the final boarding counter the clerk called me by name. Puzzled, I asked how he knew my name he joked “You’re famous! I’ve seen you on TV!” I thought to myself ‘Oh? You want funny? I’ll give you funny!’ and asked “Oh? You watch porn?” The looks I got from him, his coworker and the other passengers – absolutely priceless! I’d been saving that one up, hoping to get an occasion to use it – and this was perfect! I posted this incident on Facebook later and one of the wittiest people I know commented “My Hero!” That comment was special to me, since he really only commented or ‘liked’ what he really liked, not ‘randomly everything posted’. And sadly, he passed away soon afterwards.

And now I’m back in my beloved Eastern Cape – albeit in Port Elizabeth. I confess, I did not embrace PE like I did East London; I can’t say why – I don’t think there is a reason, it just is or it’s simply how I feel. I blame the garden – which keeps me occupied too much to have any time left to explore Port Elizabeth!

The site is, once again, completely different to either of the past site’s. I clicked right away, from the first phone-call, with the site manager and was looking forward to working with / for him! Alas, he was here only a month. His wife still keeps in touch via Facebook, which I think is very sweet; but I do wish he could have stayed for the whole project! Politics. Nuff said. Things were a bit tense before he arrived, with some local Ego’s flying high, asserting their presumed superiority through lashing out at those of us, who had no defense – including me. The first task I was given, was thrown with exasperation on my desk stating “It’s such a complex mess, nobody can make sense out of it; so you do it!” Having everything under control within a week or two did not go down well! Hence the frequent lashing-out at me. Next task – same story. There was talk of needing to hire a team of professionals to get the Safety File up to standard within the seven days the client gave us – I had to do some real fast talking to prevent that! Of course, I had the file in ship-shape and Bristol fashion in time for the next audit. More water on the burning oil. Good for me, though, since the auditor was so impressed that he recommended me to every contractor who had trouble with their Health & Safety, giving me an extra income, which finally got my bank balance out of the red, I’d been struggling to reduce since the armed robbery!

The first job I did through my employer – working one or two hours a day outside my on-site contract hours. But when he showed little or no interest in billing for my time, I decided to do the next one direct. He did eventually get around to billing for my time. I told him about the direct job and why I chose that route as well as why I needed the income. Like I said, always above board and legal.

The atmosphere at work was not very pleasant for a long time, having so easily ‘got rid of’ the only person speaking out against contradictory, unrealistic promises to the client, the new regime reigned supreme. Fortunately none of them had much clue about my workload and – apart from the occasional odd tasks here and there – left me pretty much to carry on. Of course, I’m also a) not important enough to count and b) easy prey for Ego-boosting authority-trips. That’s where the member-of-the-family status I had earned came in full strength: I was not alone! Unlike every other community or group I had ever been a part of, claiming to be family – this family is the first who did not turn on me, nor joined the current tide against me. No second face came out at the first chance, like it had every single time in my entire life. And, as unpleasant as it has been – for everyone – it has made me an even better, stronger person. I’ve lost the need for arrogance and all need to fight-back, to prove myself. I think that in the past, seeing everyone turn on me brought out a shield of arrogance – which merely served to justify the opposition. I still get a defensive attitude of arrogance on occasion – but my confidence comes from within PLUS the respect I’ve earned; it is not dependent on external perceptions. I’ve looked into the mirror with all the naked truth revealed by a Higher Power – all the shame and guilt laid bare, stripped of guile and alcoholic lies – and what I see is not ugly. Not ugly at all!

I love my job, I love the family I’ve found – albeit a rotating one, since so many come, then go never to be seen by me again. And I love my life – quiet, though it is, anti-social as some may think of me. Life on this project is very different from the first one, and just as different from the last one – new interests, new hobbies, new people and as with every project learning, learning, learning! New tasks, new responsibilities, and a much wider involvement with the entire project gaining even more understanding of how it all works and fits together.

And occasionally I get a quiet day, and can write pages and pages about myself, isn’t that lovely?