An attempt at rediscovery and finding a way to write again…

There’s this place just north of Durban, that we use to frequent often growing up. It’s also one of those special places to me. Surrounded by a nature reserve we use to go there on weekends for a braai and picnic or I use to escape there from campus when things were getting a bit much.

Once you head out on the yellow trail for a short hike, you can see the most amazing views. Rolling hills, topped with trees in all their finery, dressed in their best greens and the sweetest voices calling from nests among the finery. Walking through archways created by the overhanging branches and spotted and dotted with white flowers, you turn down the partway and climb endlessly to the bottom of till you feel the cool breeze rising from deep within the canopy calling your name. Inviting you towards the sound of rippling brooks and bubbling streams. As you move towards the sound and get closer and closer the soft sounds turn into faster waters, calling out.

Step through the breaking trees, not more then inkling in front of you runs a stream. Following it closely upstream, you can hear a deep gurgling rushing sound. A little further up and you see one of the most breathtaking, jaw dropping unspoilt wonders of nature. A waterfall gushing down into a dark whirlpool of water, it reminds you of a washing machine in spin cycle.

This is my place; this is the place that is special to me. That holds my breath and lets me breath again. Somewhere I feel at peace. I watch the falls. The gurgling plunge pool and I let it ease my worries and mind.

I miss that place. One day I will go back and find the peace so breathtaking, so brilliant, and so untouched by the outside world, by the mundane life that takes us on an ever fast moving race to the finish line. So much so that we don’t have a chance to stop and enjoy the wonders of the world around us.

A place in just outside of Durban...picture taken a while back

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Trying to write something of substance for my blog is like shooting in the dark — a needle in a haystack but that’s me. I write when and where I want to if I want to. Normally it would never be a problem but these days there is so much that I want to write but I can’t get around to doing so or finding the time to even contemplate doing it.

I thought that I would finally get some me time to fiddle around and expand my horizons since starting my new job, but none of that has been possible. I was first thrown in the deep end to cover the Southern Africa Development Community summit, which included meeting some presidents and writing a story on something I did not know about but I should have, since it affected women in southern Africa. The Gender Protocol was signed that weekend but it was barely mentioned in any of the papers or televised programmes. And meeting new people. Loads of new people and finding out that one of them has ulterior motives to knowing me. Learning to give that person a cold shoulder and learning that I need to invest in a fake wedding ring. Yah all that in four days. Totally interesting if not the most profound experience.

Now I’m being shipped off to Ghana and I can’t wait for the experience, but o boy do I have lots to catch up on. When I was first told that I was going it was to be in the capacity of a spear writer in case it was needed. Now I have started two articles for the forum — it’s the 3^rd High Level Forum on Aid Effectiveness — and I know there should be about three more to write. All this while trying to keep my first week of fast for Ramadhaan is sure going to be interesting in the least.

I love different countries and places and I hope I can fit in some touring. If not I will have to be satisfied with meeting tons of new people as per usual. Makes me wonder what else will get thrown my way when I get back.

I know I have few heady plans in the pipeline after Ramadhaan. Eid is going to be as crazy as ever. Mid-week taking leave and going home is going to be crazy and then coming back and having to work that Friday.

On to something a bit distant and arb. At the SADC summit a fellow journalist and myself were disgusted with the behaviour of a few colleagues’ from Swaziland. As many of you know Swaziland is a country ruled by a monarch. So as journalists you oppose rulers who feel it is their right to control the media and its people, especially one such as the Swazi Monarch. Fine we understand if you work for the media controlled papers, radio station and television studios. We understand you are made to follow rules and regulations. But when you stand and praise your monarch in loud voices instead of doing your job as you should, you earn the disrespect of your fellow journalists.

Asking them why they did that was like insinuating that we knew better. No we don’t. We are also humans and we also make the same faults but what they did was outrageous and unprecedented. I had never before experienced something to that effect and I hope never will I.

I am not saying that what I do is right but to stand and holler while your own camera is rolling footage makes you wonder if not everything is just an act.

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