Wildlife…

 

I’ve learned by now that there will be always something to write about. So I don’t have to be afraid that the source will dry up and that I will have writer’s block for the rest of my life.

When I was living in the bush there always was wildlife around me. I was no longer surprised to see a kudu, zebra, warthog, vervet monkey or baboon in the garden. Here of course is very different . However there are next to thirty elegant and tame bush bucks and many vervet monkeys at George Golfclub

 

 

and you regularly have to swerve around a troupe of baboons at Kaaiman’s Pass, but that’s about it. Or so I thought. These so called innocent vervet monkeys know exactly what treats can be found in a golf bag. An apple or a banana is quickly discovered and snatched away. Some players put a rubber snake on their bag and that scares off the monkeys so far. A wallet was snatched away by a monkey last week. The monkey disappeared into the bushes with it. Unfortunately for the owner, his wallet was never recovered.

Here at The Waves wildlife is hitherto limited to a cat or a small mouse on the patio, but just a few days ago there was a warning that a snake was spotted at the Club House. The snake wasn’t caught, but no drama evolved. A few days later there was a tortoise in my neighbour’s garden, it’s getting more interesting …

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am writing an email to an old friend (see ‘The boy next door’, published on 20 December 2014) while sitting on the patio, my friend Louise is sitting next to me, busy with her iPad, when I see the guard walking around at the other side of the wall which separates my garden from the neighbour’s driveway. I just wrote to the friend that he and his wife are welcome here, but that they must not expect any wildlife, when a huge baboon jumps through the garden of the other neighbours and over the wall where the guard has just passed.

here the baboon jumped over

We look at each other in bewilderment, run inside and close all doors and windows. Baboons are aggressive and clever. They have developed an admirable strategy to come into your home. They push a little one through an ajar window, the baby baboon then opens the window from the inside and the whole baboon family can enter. This tactic is also used by human burglars by the way. Who would have copied it from whom? (Racists call blacks baboons, but that must be a coincidence). Once the baboons are inside, they rip open the fridge, eat what is edible and throw the rest on the floor. They shit (this is the best word) everywhere, so you need a cleaning service to get everything clean and odourless again. That didn’t happen this time. The guard spends the rest of the day trying to scare the baboon away (you can not catch such a gigantic animal). I don’t know if he still running around somewhere.

 

 

 

 

Louise and I dare to sit on the patio a little later with a glass of wine of course.

I write to my friend that they can count on wildlife. I immediately get a response back. He is expecting five baboons at his home any moment. He means the grandchildren.

(edited with love by Julia Thomas)

Caught in control…

Caught in control

of other people’s lives

never our own

trapped we are

rigid and scared

of

letting go.

Isn’t the answer, just

steering our own life’s wheel, then

Freedom arrives

elated we become

and a

rewarding life starts.

Murphy’s law…

 

Although I have lived in South Africa for twenty years this year, I still drive around with my Dutch drivers license. Officially not allowed if you have a green ID book. When stopped by the police however, I never have a problem when I show my driver’s license; on the contrary, a foreign driver’s license often causes a friendly conversation with the cop, so I left it. Until I suddenly decided to replace my Dutch driving license by a South African one a few years ago. I was told at the Traffic Department that I should have done that two years after receiving my green ID book and if I wanted to have a South African one now I would have to redo a driving test. You understand that I did not feel like doing it. That means that I have to apply for a renewal at the Dutch Traffic Department (RDW)  and that’s not easy, because you only can request the application form on line to be sent to an address in the Netherlands. That has always gone well, thanks to Marjan’s effort and address, but it’s a hassle. Now that I’m turning 70 soon my license was up for renewal (fortunately I don’t need a medical check up – which should take place in the Netherlands by the way – , as the RDW has apparently realised that you are still capable to drive a car as a septuagenarian because they decided to raise the age to 75 a few years ago). Because I was staying with Marjan, it seemed a good idea to arrange it while I was there. The application form had been received by Marjan after my on line request and immediately on the first day I was in the Netherlands everything was posted, including my existing license to the RDW, all the way to Veendam. Far away in the northern province of Groningen, but the mail in the Netherlands arrives within a day, so nothing to worry about. After ten days, no letter or anything else from the RDW, which seemed a good sign to me. If I had not properly filled in something I would have probably heard something, so I reasoned. Yet, the next day I decided to phone them. Of course you get a menu and of course you hear that the number of calls is higher than usual, but I patiently waited until I got someone on the line. After mentioning my social security number, my request immediately showed on their computer and I got the good news that I surely could expect my license the following week. That week passed, no driver’s license. I called again.

“We are still awaiting payment”, I heard a cheerful voice at the other end of the line.

“Payment?” I said in surprise, “I’ve ticked the box on the form for a debit order. How can you not have received my payment? ”

“Did you confirm it with your signature?” The voice was still cheerful, but an unsettling feeling crept over me. I had, of course, put my signature on the form, but the request to put an additional signature confirming the method of payment had totally escaped me. We agreed that I immediately would transfer the amount and that proof of payment would be emailed to them. I made it clear to the person that the case had become urgent.

“It will take three days,” was the answer, “we unfortunately (unfortunately, do they really feel sorry for you at the RDW?) cannot make an exception, even if you live abroad”.

I switched on Marjan’s computer, started with the payment, but when I pressed the ‘send’ command, the screen froze and nothing happened. I started again, same story. I asked Marjan about it. She warned me that she had experienced this too, but that the payment had gone through nevertheless. Also in my case, 30 euros twice to the RDW. I took a picture of the payment with my iPhone and emailed it to the RDW asking to refund 30 euros and stressed again that I needed my driver’s license the following Friday at the latest, because I was leaving on the Saturday. I also called them to say that I had paid and that I was in a hurry.

“Your request comes in at a different department, ma’am, I can’t do anything from here.” You’re hitting the proverbial wall. “Do you have any further questions?” That sentence is apparently their protocol, because I heard it every single time, but it drives you to frenzy if you do not get what you want. Still, I managed to squeeze out a “no thank you”. I had put down the phone straightaway, so that the phrase, “I wish you a nice day further,” was lost. I got a confirmation by email to my surprise, which also stated that the planning was to mail the license on Wednesday. I was relieved, there were two chances that I could leave with my new driver’s license in my pocket. Marjan told me not to rejoice too soon and … she was right. I called again on Friday because there was no license in the letterbox and asked them to email a copy, now that I hadn’t received the real thing in time. As you already guessed, the answer was that this unfortunately (!) wasn’t possible. I asked Marjan to make a scan of my license as soon as it arrived and email it to me so that I could at least show something at a road block to corroborate my story. She then would send it to me by courier.

At home I get out my computer which I had stored away in a closet, because you never know. I switch on my computer and my mobile Wi-Fi device and I see to my delight Marjan’s e-mail and attachment. I press ‘print’, nothing happens. It strikes me that my WiFi goes off all the time, but I don’t think that has anything to do with the fact that I can’t print the document and I don’t know what I am doing wrong, I try it six times assuming it will eventually work. A cold perspiration breaks out on my forehead. Suddenly my eye falls on two loose cables, one for the printer and one for the WiFi, which should OF COURSE be connected to the computer, if you want to do something with it. Immediately after connecting the cables six prints come happily out of the printer and the Wi-Fi stays on. What can I say? …… you are allowed to laugh at my stupidity.

PS I just got a message from Marjan that my license will be delivered by DHL on Friday. Seeing is believing.

PPS A friendly bank employee guided us to do all sorts of incomprehensible things on the computer to sort out the problem, so Marjan now receives confirmation again after she has made a payment. We didn’t ask how it could have happened that it suddenly did not work. We probably wouldn’t have understood the answer.

(edited with love by Julia Thomas)