Smoking Hot

This morning, the world outside my window was bathed in shades of yellow and green. Whilst this may not be abnormal on planets outside of our galaxy, it was pretty strange for my eyes to behold. Ash floated gently and silently down like rain and settled on every surface. Rubbing my eyes, I suspected that this morning was going to be a little different!

More fires had raged through the night in the mountains causing this interesting start to the day. They casued a huge cloud of smoke and ash to hang over town. So thick that one could look at the sun and see it as a bright orange disc suspended in the sky. The view over the sea was bizzarre as I could sea sunlight in False Bay from under our very own cloud.

Those poor firemen have been fighting this one for four days. They have to be tired and ready for bed by now! Suddenly my Monday could only be brilliant regardless of the outcome!!!

Waiting

I am sitting in an airport at Port Harcourt. Waiting. This is what is done in Africa. So far I have only been waiting for two and a half hours. It could be far worse. It does not bode well for my trip home as this is only my first flight; there are still two more to catch after this. That is if I arrive in Lagos in time for the next one. If not, the next flight back home to South Africa leaves in two days time. I do hope I make it, but then again there is no point worrying about stuff you cannot change. I am learning to go with the flow. I don’t like it though!

My book is pretty good, but I don’t want to finish it before I get on the flight. A couple of little bugs crawl across the page I am reading. Their tiny legs pumping with vigour. I squashed one but the other was too fast. There have been a lot of bugs over here. Not wild and dangerous bugs but just little things with which I don’t normally share my space. The pasta I cooked the other night came with free weevils. Big, fat ones with stubby legs. I fished some of them out of the boiling water but gave up and decided to eat them. I think they tasted just fine! My sandwich today had one of those little ones that were also on my book. After ten days in Nigeria, I did not give the little critter a second thought. It was my cheese sandwich and it tasted out of this world.

There are plenty more bugs where those came from. It certainly explains the large population of brightly coloured lizards that seem to be everywhere. These guys enjoy them too.

The electricity has died three times while I have been waiting here. Nothing much changes; the lights go out and the slowly rotating ceiling fans rotate slower and then stop. This part of the country is oil rich and yet there is no constant power supply. Something to do with corruption and power. Most of Port Harcourt has no electricity during the day. Very simply the place runs on generators and the generators run on fuel! Fuel is hard to come by. My heart breaks for the people queuing for fuel as they wait for hours. One drives past fuel stations with long lines of empty cars. Thirsty car after car, just waiting. It is pretty incomprehensible that with all of the oil, there is no oil refinery. Or at least any oil refineries that still work. Now all oil and gas is shipped off somewhere else, refined, and then imported back into the area. Words cannot describe how ridiculous this is.

No fuel means no electricity which also means no refrigeration. It is a little difficult to freeze meat without power all of time. That does not stop anyone from trying. I can only imagine the number of times in a day that it defrosts and refreezes. It does not seem to bother anyone. It bothers me! I have become an almost very good vegan for my stay here. Whilst I have thoroughly enjoyed lots of beans, some cool bugs, and plenty of pasta, I am looking forward to meat and eggs and more meat!!!

As for queues, fuel, oil, and electricity, one can only hope that sanity will prevail over greed. But it perhaps best not to hope too much or too long.....

Scaredy Cat!

This notion of me being scared is a worrying one.

I am trying to work out why this particular trip to a dangerous militant area bothered me so much. Am I getting older and perhaps becoming more conservative? I hope not! Perhaps this was just an ill prepared trip with little or no contingency for things going wrong. Certainly this bothered me as the threat out there is very real. More than that, I have felt the naked aggression that almost rolls in waves off some people over here. My last couple of months have included lots of time deep in Africa in the heart of some very poor societies. Yet being white has not bothered me, until I found myself here in Nigeria.

Trust me, I spent the last couple of days wrestling with myself about going or not. In the end I was surprised to find out that I just did not want to go.

There was an element of risk to the trip. For me, the trip itself would have been absolutely fascinating. It would also have been a great bonding experience This is a pseudo conflict area rarely seen by anyone outside of army, oil, security, and the locals. My camera would have had to stay behind as that would have been tantamount to painting a target on my back. So all the risk and no wonderful photographs to showcase on my return! The only payoff, being able to say been there done that, was simply not worth the perceived risk.

Does this really mean that I am all soft and wimpy. Surely I could be killed in a car accident, or a freak plane crash, or by some mugger back home. Was this risk any greater than the stuff that we all face in daily life?

I wondered about the impact on my family. By taking unnecessary risks do I invite a major negative impact on all of their lives? I would imagine the family of kidnapping victims go through absolute hell, as days or weeks are spent in suspense as to your loved one’s well being. As for me being the kidnapping victim, that would be the chance I took and one of the outcomes I would have had to expect. By not taking any risks at all, surely I will simply morph into a boring lump. I suppose that there has to be a balance between the two. I do think though, that my life and the lives of my family are not chips with which I have any right to gamble.

I am about to for a walk to the local supermarket about one kilometre away. I am finding it hard to reconcile the fact that despite all of the advice to not take a step outside, I am going to go and do just that. Then again a man must eat!

Does any of this make me less wimpy or scared? Not really, but perhaps I have a better idea of the boundaries of what I am prepared to do, regardless of what others may think.

Anyhow – I made it back from a very enjoyable walk. And my contract manager made it home safely late yesterday afternoon, with a new list of very interesting experiences under his belt!!!

Wimpy in NIgeria

I feel like a right real wimp today!

I have turned down an offer to go and explore a bit of the Niger Delta. My contact here in Nigeria has decided to go and take a look at a place called Bonny Island. It is probably the most southern land mass of the Niger Delta. The trip to get there involves the normal hell run on wheels through the streets, which is then followed by a speed boat trip down river for about an hour.

From what I understand Bonny Island is the oil centre of Nigeria. Lots of international companies have spent extensive amounts of money developing facilities on this island and then made trillions exporting the crude black stuff far away! Very little has been put back into the country due to the usual tri-factor of greed, bribery, and corruption. Some of the results have included a frustrated populace, one or two fat cats, zero reinvestment into the community and a growing ecological disaster. Sadly nobody seems to care!

Well that is not strictly true. There is an organisation called MEND, short for Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta. They have resorted to kidnapping, violence and even murder to achieve their aims. I suppose their strategy is to destabilise the region and ensure that the white man leaves. I have only been in the vicinity for a couple of days and can feel their frustration. The white man has been here for years plundering the natural resources and putting absolutely nothing back. Sadly, for a place so rich in an expensive natural resource, it really is a dump!

There are other organisations who operate in the area but they are simply opportunist criminals looking to satisfy their greed. They are probably a lot more dangerous as their sole aim is to swell their own pockets.

On Friday, Shell declared a force majeure on its Nigeria exports. Effectively MEND has called an end to its four month truce and instead promised a ‘hurricane’ of attacks. Obviously the big fight in this area is between the oil companies, their employees as their proxies, and the militants who want them gone. The results can be seen in oil export sales which are down more than 25%. One might say that the MEND threat is actually working!

In my few days here, I have had various reactions to my presence, from a little girl running up to me and hugging me because I am white to attendants at a shop being openly aggressive about a loaf of bread and a naval intelligence officer trying to wrest my camera away from me. I even had to go to a gym in order to run on a treadmill as I have been advised very strongly not to run on the roads.

And so I decided not to go for a day trip to Bonny Island today. In all likelihood, nothing will happen and no doubt it would have been an incredible trip. There just seems to be too high a chance of something going wrong.

I am very disappointed in myself as I never back away from a challenge. In all honesty, I am scared and feel that I really do not belong here! Now that is an admission that you will not hear often!

Surfing with my son

Saturday was another new experience in our family.

One of my good friends suggested that my oldest compete in a Boland surfing trial. Very simply there are three sets of trials for youngsters who have not competed at any level. At seven, Luke certainly fits into that category and was incredibly excited by the idea. And so it was that we found ourselves on the beach on Saturday morning.

I expected to arrive, watch Luke surf, and be off within an hour. I was a little wrong and so we were totally unprepared for an entire morning on the beach. There are not a lot of under 8 surfers and so it was no surprise that he was the only boy. It was a surprise that there was a little girl in the under 8 category.

This little girl was pretty amazing. She was tiny with shoulder length blond hair and full of energy. I watched in amazement as she picked up her dad’s longboard, which was easily four times her size, and carry it to down to the sea. In the sea she would catch the tiniest of waves with no effort, stand up on the board, raise her arms in the air, and scream in delight. Right up until she daintily stepped off the board onto the sand. Certainly not surfing in the sense I understand but her style had appeal!

This was Luke’s first competition and so there was a whole heap of technical information that he had to digest; including the wearing of a competition vest, understanding the way a heat worked, surfing to the timing flags, and actually surfing for a panel of judges.

He paddled into the sea as his heat got underway. He caught two short waves and started doing a little of his thing. He then got washed into a section of sea where the waves were small and at all angles. He could not catch a single thing and got more and more frustrated. When the heat ended, he was in tears. He was incredibly disappointed that he had not been able to show his best. More than that, he believed that he had been beaten by a girl on a long board!

My heart went out to him as he was absolutely distraught. At school, he is part of an incredibly competitive group of friends and I suspect that the surfing was his way to prove himself. I gave the guy a big wet hug. We were then told that he still had to surf another heat. Personally I was disappointed as I was looking forward to going out surfing myself. He was over the moon, he had just been given another chance. We were also informed that in his age group, I was allowed to go into the sea with him and position him in the waves.

We took a chocolate break. Then he grabbed me by the hand and said, “dad, I want to go practise”. So back out to sea we went and I got him in position for a wave. He caught it and worked it all the way to the shore. The lights were back on in his eyes and we agreed that just that wave would have been a competition winner. Then he went out and caught a whole lot more.

I got him out of the sea in time for a ten minute rest and then we were back out there. This time he was ready to prove himself. I got him in position again, told him to ride it like his competition winner, and he was off. Boy, did he work his magic on that wave and the next four that came his way.

All I can say is that this was one of the most wonderful father son moments that I have probably ever experienced. It was real bonding time out there in the sea. Man, I am proud of the little guy! There were no results as this was a trial, but really results were completely irrelevant!

Half a Project

It is time for an update on the half pipe project.

After procrastinating for ages, I went out and blew loads on money on stacks of wood. After staring at the wood for days, I got stuck in cutting everything to size. I then put together the first two (out of 4) main ramp sections. I surprised myself with how well they turned out. Especially considering my two little helpers that were intent on drilling and screwing

From the photo, you will notice that the size of this project is a tad larger than my children. They are going to have to get good fast.

As for me, I intend to take out an extension on my life insurance policy and book a private room at the local Medi-Clinic!!

Life is full of incredibly interesting events.

I found last Friday mind blowing. It all started twenty three years ago when I became friends with a guy at school called Matthew. It turned out that his mother was an underground fighter for the ANC.

Fast forward to today and my friend’s mother is a well known member of parliament. I phoned her up to invite her out to dinner and instead she invited me to the opening of parliament. I almost refused and then thought better of it and went. I am so glad I did.



I got to parliament long before the sparrows. Already police lined the streets and red carpets trailed everywhere. I had no evidence that I had been invited and felt like a bit of a fraudster. In the end friend’s mom and I met up at a coffee shop. She then gave me the tour, taking me through parliament, even showing me where Verwoed was assassinated. I was impressed. Parliament consists of an array of incredible buildings!

My seat was in the gallery. This is the upstairs section of a couple of hundred seats that overlook the members of parliament. I had lots of time to soak up the atmosphere and just observe. Ties and hats bobbed here and there, some no doubt costing more than my suit! I could feel the power coursing through the atmosphere.



Zuma’s entrance was announced and he got a muted cheer. He took up a seat about eight metres away on my right in the front row. A couple of networkers got up and greeted him with their special smiles. Helen Zille made an entrance and sat some ten metres away on my left. It was all rather intimidating.

The speakers, judges, and finally the President all made their grand entrances. The main order of business was the President’s speech which was a difficult one considering that he had recently taken over the reins and knew that he will shortly need to hand them on again. I watched Zuma, I could just imagine him thinking that in a mere year, he would be the one at the centre of all of this fuss and attention. Time will tell!



I later found myself trailing behind friend’s mother being introduced to all sorts of people; ministers, premiers, ambassadors and mayors. Friend’s mother seemed to know everyone. Lunch was at the International Convention Centre. I managed to get through the tough security by clutching the hem of friend’s mother’s dress! I lunched with the Korean Ambassador and his wife, who were really wonderful. Introductions did not stop and I was introduced to speakers, secretaries of parties, and more ambassadors. The President walked past our table and we mouthed our hello’s.

I can see why corporate bigwigs like to attend this event as it is a networking frenzy. Myself, I was just overwhelmed to have pleasant conversations with all of these incredibly powerful people. I am not sure what possesses somebody to be a politician but that day, they all got my respect!

Cat lovers

Last night was fun.

The wind howled and the plants lay flat in subservience. Everything that could fly away did, and the things that could not, flapped in vain to join them. Any washing on the line was redistributed to those downwind of you. My wife and I snuggled in bed, seemingly safe from the worries of the world outside.

And then a creature of that night came inside, something fierce and mean and thoroughly unpleasant. The neighbour’s cat! We are still not sure which neighbour but we will track them down in time. This cat has raged a war of terror on our two cats for the last nine months. This is no ordinary cat. Instead this is a sneaky, street wise fiend.

At approximately 05h31, an almighty commotion took place outside our room. Numerous things crashed and shattered. The transition from dreamland to two paces outside of my bedroom took all of an instant. Asleep on my feet, I realised that something was wrong and with one hand I shut the window that is always left open for the cats. My instinct served me well as a form barrelled down my dark passage. Without a thought I swooped and grabbed this abomination, feeling the joyous slice of claws through my flesh.

I was exhilarated. Nine months of annoyance had resulted in this moment. Hmmm, now what? I had played this scenario over in my mind many times. I had felt the sweet euphoria of dropping this pest into a cat box and ferrying it to the nearest animal shelter. I would then only pay half the money for it to be spayed to ensure that it would be done without anaesthetic! Alas, I had no cat box or a plan and so with great disappointment, I hurled this vermin out of my house. I was rather disappointed, my hands were shredded, and my prey lost. And then I heard the sweet sound of a splash as this rubbish fell into our pool in its haste to leave. I could feel my hands healing as I watched this beast swim back to the side and climb out of the pool.

Last night’s destruction included three framed photographs and an interesting wooden carving completed by my late grandfather many years ago. This rubbish and I will meet again. I have vowed to be better prepared and I guarantee that he will not leave with his nuts intact!

I was saddened by the loss of my grandfathers carving. His memory though will live on in me regardless. As will this amazing image of a cat swimming in my pool!

Time Out

I took out a day last week to get creative. My good friend Pete Rimmell ( professional photographer) and I went on a photographic safari. Now this is usually one of those things that normally just gets talked about and never done. Yet at 05h00 on Thursday, it all felt decidedly real.

There is a theory that one should take some time out from your work on a monthly basis and spend it doing something creative that you really enjoy. For both of us, taking photographs is that something that brings great joy, while also being creative. You may well laugh at the idea of taking time off, what, in this world??

We started off at a beach for sunrise, where we immersed ourselves in some really special light. Then it was off to a section of hills between Rooi Els and Betties Bay. This entire area burnt about three years ago and in the right light looks a bit like a lunar landscape. We did not have the right light as my pictures show a land well into recovery! By about 09h00 the light was really flat as the sun had turned on its power and so we found ourselves taking a walk up to Leipard’s Kloof (I blogged about this walk a couple of posts ago). The great thing about this walk is that most of it takes place in an indigenous forest, which provides just the right circumstances for photography in the middle of the day.

We took hours to do this short walk. At a certain point, I just sat down on the path. It was beautiful. The stream was gurgling away on my left, birds called to each other in the trees, a woodpecker was busy with his new home, Pete was somewhere or other taking pictures, and I concentrated on becoming one with the forest floor. Where all I had seen was a profusion of trees and leaves, I now saw heaps of photographs that I just had to take.

A gentle reminder that taking time out, even on our day of time out, really brings the important things back into focus! I took loads of photos, most of them not very good, but I learnt so much!! My pics pale in comparison with Pete's, he just has this amazing eye and ability to back it up.

After procrastinating for so long to take this day out, we are now armed with heaps of ideas and the certainty that there will be many repeats!