Crumbles of thoughts about my last few days..
Why is the beginning of the academic year always so busy? It seems as though all the planning done last year just serves no purpose as students wander around like lost sheep.. I wouldve thought that reading and university go together like white on rice.. but Im constantly being surprised.
Cape Town weather is like a woman really. So unpredictable. For the past few days its been wonderfully sunny and I was making plans to go crayfish diving this weekend, and suddenly the weather changes. If the swell comes up, I cant dive.. :( and no crayfish for everyone..
A very good friend of mine is in Cape Town right now. We have a habit of giving each other special gifts every year. She has gotten me a very cute perfume and a heart shaped pendant. Thing is, she has two kids and a mashallah husband that gives her everything she wants. So perfume is out, jewellery is out, and I really dont know what to get her. She is a probiotic 100% cotton kinda gal. So I was thinking of something organic and natural...Any suggestions wud be fabulous:)
I have been going to gym :) whoohoo. Its amazing how excercising every day can make a difference to your energy levels.. try it! Today I feel a bit tired because I didnt go to gym this morning. My ankle was paining, as I resprained it playing putt putt. Imagine that.. of all the wierd adventure things I do, I end up hurting my ankle playing harmless putt putt. I truly am a klutz!
Monday, February 02, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
2000 And Mine
Ive been reading and obsessing over Hning's blog for some time now. And I really believe her when she says the only way to become a good writer is to keep on writing.. This formed my decision to keep on blogging, whether its deep or random posts.. and also, because of the sense that somehow somewhere, we can relate to each other.
Maybe you have noticed that I havent blogged for a year. 2008 was not the most easy of years (This applies to most of us, I think). What made my 2008 so difficult, and yet so truly special?
Most of our lives we wander in and out of relationships that never make us truly happy, but they also never capture us enough to really cause pain. That, for some, is the safest way to live.
I can truly say I have loved, and because of the intense joy that I experienced, I was also fortunate to experience utter and complete desolation. Yes, your assumption was right, I was married, and I have gotten divorced. The reasons for the divorce will probably be discussed over the weeks to come, but I have made my peace with my decision.
Due to my disinterest in the world around me, 2008 sped by. And this year I look forward to my year. Two thousand and MINE! Im taking my years back, my life, and my sanity. I claim my independence and my freedom. My thoughts are mine, and so is my skin. My bed is my own, and my time is spent doing everything or nothing with people I choose to do it with. This is what I leave u with, a precious little bit of me.
Maybe you have noticed that I havent blogged for a year. 2008 was not the most easy of years (This applies to most of us, I think). What made my 2008 so difficult, and yet so truly special?
Most of our lives we wander in and out of relationships that never make us truly happy, but they also never capture us enough to really cause pain. That, for some, is the safest way to live.
I can truly say I have loved, and because of the intense joy that I experienced, I was also fortunate to experience utter and complete desolation. Yes, your assumption was right, I was married, and I have gotten divorced. The reasons for the divorce will probably be discussed over the weeks to come, but I have made my peace with my decision.
Due to my disinterest in the world around me, 2008 sped by. And this year I look forward to my year. Two thousand and MINE! Im taking my years back, my life, and my sanity. I claim my independence and my freedom. My thoughts are mine, and so is my skin. My bed is my own, and my time is spent doing everything or nothing with people I choose to do it with. This is what I leave u with, a precious little bit of me.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Scenes from life in Cape Town I: The Taksi Gaachey
And, I'm back ... (That new years resolution I made last year flew out the window with the first bar of chocolate at ten past midnight 01 Jan 2008)
The taksi gaachey is an integral part of life in Cape Town. He is an institution by himself, avant garde poetry by just existing..
In Cape Town, the public transport systems are not very well developed. Most commuters make use of the buses, taxi's and trains. The most popular form of public transport is the taxi. Now this taxi is unlike the ones you will find anywhere else in the world. It usually is a 12 to 15 seater mini van, which has been unusually pimped. Chrome wheels, dvd players, and loud, loud, loud stereo systems characterise the typical taxi.
The popularity of the taxi probably rests with the fact that it is one of the cheapest and fastest ways of getting to your destination. Its also an adrenaline-filled death defying trip. Taxi drivers have no clue what the rules of the road entail, and indicator lights are much like an appendix to them, there, but useless. They brake in the middle of busy intersections in peak traffic to pick up passengers and defy speed limits, they tailgate, and overtake normal cars even if they have to drive into oncoming traffic. The taxi drivers however, are not the point of this post.
Back to the point. The Gaachey is the taxi drivers assistant. He is responsible for taking the taxi fare from commuters, and providing them with change. He also makes sure that the taxi is filled up for each trip, and this is where he becomes so innovative and worth mentioning. The Gaachey remembers his destinations and walks along the 'pick-up' zones chanting them like a litany or song. One often hears ' Ethlown, Mowbreeey, Kaaap!' They use the sweetest language to get pretty women to drive with them, and are of great assistance to pregnant and older passengers.
The Gaachey is a Cape Town institution, one that makes me smile every day, as his chanting fills the air when I drive by...
The taksi gaachey is an integral part of life in Cape Town. He is an institution by himself, avant garde poetry by just existing..
In Cape Town, the public transport systems are not very well developed. Most commuters make use of the buses, taxi's and trains. The most popular form of public transport is the taxi. Now this taxi is unlike the ones you will find anywhere else in the world. It usually is a 12 to 15 seater mini van, which has been unusually pimped. Chrome wheels, dvd players, and loud, loud, loud stereo systems characterise the typical taxi.
The popularity of the taxi probably rests with the fact that it is one of the cheapest and fastest ways of getting to your destination. Its also an adrenaline-filled death defying trip. Taxi drivers have no clue what the rules of the road entail, and indicator lights are much like an appendix to them, there, but useless. They brake in the middle of busy intersections in peak traffic to pick up passengers and defy speed limits, they tailgate, and overtake normal cars even if they have to drive into oncoming traffic. The taxi drivers however, are not the point of this post.
Back to the point. The Gaachey is the taxi drivers assistant. He is responsible for taking the taxi fare from commuters, and providing them with change. He also makes sure that the taxi is filled up for each trip, and this is where he becomes so innovative and worth mentioning. The Gaachey remembers his destinations and walks along the 'pick-up' zones chanting them like a litany or song. One often hears ' Ethlown, Mowbreeey, Kaaap!' They use the sweetest language to get pretty women to drive with them, and are of great assistance to pregnant and older passengers.
The Gaachey is a Cape Town institution, one that makes me smile every day, as his chanting fills the air when I drive by...
Monday, November 19, 2007
My Dreams
Hi everyone, I am so sorry for being out of my mind..but as my blog states, I will always be back in five minutes!
*the next two paragraphs are dedication-like*
Okay, so thanks to Speedo, ur a doll for always asking after me, I will however kick your butt (not hard, I pwomith!), and CanCan, Izzy I love ya!, Mido..where are you???,
HNING a mega happy super BIRTHDAY to you!!! Update me gal..
BEAR a super bday to you too!!
Sara, your baby is mashallah absolutely beautiful. I was privelidged to have been invited to her party:) and thanks for making South Africa your vacation spot this year
May. Godiva gurl, thats all I will say.
Fishy and Jaja where have you two disappeared to?
Shale... did you finally find out that the earth was flat and fall off the end of it?
Taqo bell? yoo hoo has uni gobbled you up?
Okay now that Ive asked after the health and wellbeing of everyone, I can go on to the juicy bits.
I didnt go sandboarding after all. Unfortunately it was too windy, and apparently the dunes have a nasty habit of shifting and burying you under a few hundred tonnes of sand, NOT a good way to die! Some other day, when the wind has died down Inshallah
I did however go go-karting. I always dreamt of becoming an F1 driver (Guys, dont laugh, a gurl can dream okay!) and thought that the go-karts were a place to start. (EVERYONE's got to start somewhere). The karts are close to the ground, and dont go over 60km/hr. I thought...60kn/hr..piece of cake! I do 150km/hr when I'm racing to reply to an 'on-call'. So I helmet up, and get in the little thingy.
Apparently its not as easy as it looks. The steering alone is t.o.u.g.h.. The smell of the fumes made me high. I pushed that little kart to 60km/hr even around the bends. My arms were taking punishment and I was sweating with the effort of keeping the kart on track and keeping the lead. (Duh, what did you expect?) . That little tiny go-kart is so heavy to drive!! I was eternally grateful for my power steering as soon as I got out of that little vehicle.
It was very clear to me as I got out, that go-karting is definately not for me. I woke up the next morning feeling as though the kart had driven over me instead of me driving it! Yes, it was exhilirating, and yes, I will do it again, but to make a career out of it..no way! So please all, bow your heads in a moment of silence to bid goodbye to my dream of being a racing car driver...:)
*grins wickedly..maybe I havent given that one up just yet*
I think that, when I grow up, I would like to be a professional drifter:) Yup, when I was on the track I found myself doing some perfect drifts, perfect angle, perfect style, perfect timing! So, look out for the first Saudi female drifter coming to your big screens soon:) (yeah right.. )
P.S. My new years resolution: To update more often with adventures from Africa:)
*the next two paragraphs are dedication-like*
Okay, so thanks to Speedo, ur a doll for always asking after me, I will however kick your butt (not hard, I pwomith!), and CanCan, Izzy I love ya!, Mido..where are you???,
HNING a mega happy super BIRTHDAY to you!!! Update me gal..
BEAR a super bday to you too!!
Sara, your baby is mashallah absolutely beautiful. I was privelidged to have been invited to her party:) and thanks for making South Africa your vacation spot this year
May. Godiva gurl, thats all I will say.
Fishy and Jaja where have you two disappeared to?
Shale... did you finally find out that the earth was flat and fall off the end of it?
Taqo bell? yoo hoo has uni gobbled you up?
Okay now that Ive asked after the health and wellbeing of everyone, I can go on to the juicy bits.
I didnt go sandboarding after all. Unfortunately it was too windy, and apparently the dunes have a nasty habit of shifting and burying you under a few hundred tonnes of sand, NOT a good way to die! Some other day, when the wind has died down Inshallah
I did however go go-karting. I always dreamt of becoming an F1 driver (Guys, dont laugh, a gurl can dream okay!) and thought that the go-karts were a place to start. (EVERYONE's got to start somewhere). The karts are close to the ground, and dont go over 60km/hr. I thought...60kn/hr..piece of cake! I do 150km/hr when I'm racing to reply to an 'on-call'. So I helmet up, and get in the little thingy.
Apparently its not as easy as it looks. The steering alone is t.o.u.g.h.. The smell of the fumes made me high. I pushed that little kart to 60km/hr even around the bends. My arms were taking punishment and I was sweating with the effort of keeping the kart on track and keeping the lead. (Duh, what did you expect?) . That little tiny go-kart is so heavy to drive!! I was eternally grateful for my power steering as soon as I got out of that little vehicle.
It was very clear to me as I got out, that go-karting is definately not for me. I woke up the next morning feeling as though the kart had driven over me instead of me driving it! Yes, it was exhilirating, and yes, I will do it again, but to make a career out of it..no way! So please all, bow your heads in a moment of silence to bid goodbye to my dream of being a racing car driver...:)
*grins wickedly..maybe I havent given that one up just yet*
I think that, when I grow up, I would like to be a professional drifter:) Yup, when I was on the track I found myself doing some perfect drifts, perfect angle, perfect style, perfect timing! So, look out for the first Saudi female drifter coming to your big screens soon:) (yeah right.. )
P.S. My new years resolution: To update more often with adventures from Africa:)
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Ramadhan in Cape Town
Of course, I wouldn’t disappoint.
First, a history lesson. (Jaja and Shale I know you are going to Wikipedia this, so if I make any mistakes please feel free to correct) Muslims first came to Cape Town in a great number about 310 years ago, from the Malay archipelago, as slaves. They were valued among other things, as healers, craftsmen, and obviously for their petit beauty. A later group was exiled to the Cape by the Dutch East India Company. The exiled group consisted mainly of religious leaders and political dissidents. They were given a higher status by colonialists, and so amassed wealth, which was then taken from them during the Apartheid era.
The first Muslims that came to the Cape lay down the traditions, that are still followed today. They brought with them Malayu, which eventually worked its way into the grammar of modern day Afrikaans.
So, what effect did all of this have on Ramadaan in the Cape? How do I experience Ramadaan, and 3eed here?
Ramadaan is a special time that the whole of Cape Town embraces, Muslim, or not. Large supermarkets have special prices for food that people eat often like bananas, milk and rice. One large supermarket chain (something like Tesco’s or Tamimi) even has a drive to sponsor some poor families in the community so that they can have a better Ramadaan. At the major universities, exam times are shuffled, so that students don’t write while they have to Iftaar. Colleagues are always sensitive to a fasting person, and apologise if they have to eat in front of that person. Muslims in Cape Town come together to give meals to the poor, and have a city-wide Qara2at Al Quraan competition.
A large contributor to the spreading of the news about events that are happening, is the Muslim radio stations. They play the Adhaan (all year round) five times daily, and keep the entire community updated with news of deaths and births, birthdays and prayers, and also have a range of normal programmes like sports and social commentary.
The day is pretty normal, up early for Su7oor. My Su7oor menu sounds large, but I only eat little portions of everything. I have eggs, low glycaemic index bread, vegetables, oatmeal, fruit, water, and yoghurt. Then its off to a eight(sometimes ten or twelve hour) day at work, and then home. Iftaar is milk, or soup, or a fruit. And tarawee7 after that. By the time I get home finally I’m knackered, and its even worse when I’m invited out, because then its back to the hosts home for dessert.
Tradition here dictates that the younger children take savoury or sweet platters to their neighbours in exchange for something from the neighbours table. In recent years the trend has been away from oily and sweet foods to more healthy treats. Traditional treats include samoosa, boeber, soji, falooda, and oh, too many more to mention. (May I add that they are all equally delicious). The night before 3eed, most Cape Townian Muslims gather in an area called Three Anchor Bay, to sight the coming of the moon. They have a mass Iftar, and then perform Maghrib salaah together. Last year it was estimated that 7000 Muslims showed up. People then stay for a picnic if the next day is 3eed (with shisha too!) and go home for tarawee7 if it is not 3eed.
3eed in itself is a big deal, like it is elsewhere in the world. Most people apply for leave from their work for 3eed, and then work over Christmas. Others get the day off. New clothes are bought, curtains are changed, houses are aired, and loads of food gets prepared. Kids get some money as an 3eediya (or 3eed gift).
On the morning of 3eed, most men go to the masjid. After masjid, they visit the graves of those who have passed on in their families. Others go straight home for a breakfast of pie and other yummies. Then people usually get dressed and go to greet each other. Lunch is usually at the family home, with brothers and sisters and uncles and everyone. In the evenings, the older folks sit together, while the younger ones group up with friends and go to ‘model’ their 3eed clothes at the biggest malls or go for coffee together at the beach. This is the best people watching time, as some guys even hire flashy and smart cars to take their friends out with.
And that everyone, is Ramadaan and 3eed in Cape Town.
For Shale:
some of the terms that you may not be familiar with:
Iftaar: dinner
Qara2at Al Quran: Reciting of the Quran in a melodious fashion
Adhaan: call to prayer
Su7oor: breakfast
Tarawee7: special evening prayer after the last prayer of the night. It lasts about two hours.
Samoosa: a triangular folded pastry, usually savoury
Boeber: a sweet, spicy, warm, milk drink, with nuts and raisins
Soji: a sweet pudding
Falooda: a pink, fragrant cold milk drink
Maghrib: the prayer after sunset
First, a history lesson. (Jaja and Shale I know you are going to Wikipedia this, so if I make any mistakes please feel free to correct) Muslims first came to Cape Town in a great number about 310 years ago, from the Malay archipelago, as slaves. They were valued among other things, as healers, craftsmen, and obviously for their petit beauty. A later group was exiled to the Cape by the Dutch East India Company. The exiled group consisted mainly of religious leaders and political dissidents. They were given a higher status by colonialists, and so amassed wealth, which was then taken from them during the Apartheid era.
The first Muslims that came to the Cape lay down the traditions, that are still followed today. They brought with them Malayu, which eventually worked its way into the grammar of modern day Afrikaans.
So, what effect did all of this have on Ramadaan in the Cape? How do I experience Ramadaan, and 3eed here?
Ramadaan is a special time that the whole of Cape Town embraces, Muslim, or not. Large supermarkets have special prices for food that people eat often like bananas, milk and rice. One large supermarket chain (something like Tesco’s or Tamimi) even has a drive to sponsor some poor families in the community so that they can have a better Ramadaan. At the major universities, exam times are shuffled, so that students don’t write while they have to Iftaar. Colleagues are always sensitive to a fasting person, and apologise if they have to eat in front of that person. Muslims in Cape Town come together to give meals to the poor, and have a city-wide Qara2at Al Quraan competition.
A large contributor to the spreading of the news about events that are happening, is the Muslim radio stations. They play the Adhaan (all year round) five times daily, and keep the entire community updated with news of deaths and births, birthdays and prayers, and also have a range of normal programmes like sports and social commentary.
The day is pretty normal, up early for Su7oor. My Su7oor menu sounds large, but I only eat little portions of everything. I have eggs, low glycaemic index bread, vegetables, oatmeal, fruit, water, and yoghurt. Then its off to a eight(sometimes ten or twelve hour) day at work, and then home. Iftaar is milk, or soup, or a fruit. And tarawee7 after that. By the time I get home finally I’m knackered, and its even worse when I’m invited out, because then its back to the hosts home for dessert.
Tradition here dictates that the younger children take savoury or sweet platters to their neighbours in exchange for something from the neighbours table. In recent years the trend has been away from oily and sweet foods to more healthy treats. Traditional treats include samoosa, boeber, soji, falooda, and oh, too many more to mention. (May I add that they are all equally delicious). The night before 3eed, most Cape Townian Muslims gather in an area called Three Anchor Bay, to sight the coming of the moon. They have a mass Iftar, and then perform Maghrib salaah together. Last year it was estimated that 7000 Muslims showed up. People then stay for a picnic if the next day is 3eed (with shisha too!) and go home for tarawee7 if it is not 3eed.
3eed in itself is a big deal, like it is elsewhere in the world. Most people apply for leave from their work for 3eed, and then work over Christmas. Others get the day off. New clothes are bought, curtains are changed, houses are aired, and loads of food gets prepared. Kids get some money as an 3eediya (or 3eed gift).
On the morning of 3eed, most men go to the masjid. After masjid, they visit the graves of those who have passed on in their families. Others go straight home for a breakfast of pie and other yummies. Then people usually get dressed and go to greet each other. Lunch is usually at the family home, with brothers and sisters and uncles and everyone. In the evenings, the older folks sit together, while the younger ones group up with friends and go to ‘model’ their 3eed clothes at the biggest malls or go for coffee together at the beach. This is the best people watching time, as some guys even hire flashy and smart cars to take their friends out with.
And that everyone, is Ramadaan and 3eed in Cape Town.
For Shale:
some of the terms that you may not be familiar with:
Iftaar: dinner
Qara2at Al Quran: Reciting of the Quran in a melodious fashion
Adhaan: call to prayer
Su7oor: breakfast
Tarawee7: special evening prayer after the last prayer of the night. It lasts about two hours.
Samoosa: a triangular folded pastry, usually savoury
Boeber: a sweet, spicy, warm, milk drink, with nuts and raisins
Soji: a sweet pudding
Falooda: a pink, fragrant cold milk drink
Maghrib: the prayer after sunset
Friday, September 14, 2007
All the good things
*Attention all men: (or one male that reads my blog, Shale) this is full of chatty details that may not interest you. Run now. You have been warned*
Oh Ive missed you all so. So. Without further ado *pompous voice* ..
The pic below is of me and a few friends on a quad biking trail. Does that make me cool? I think not. *settles a bit further into well worn nerdy skin*
My new car. Her name is Yara. She is adorable and quite light on gas. She is also tough, fitted with the latest anti- hijacking gimmicks one can get on the market. I *heart* her.
Embarak 3leekum al shahar, Ramadhaan Kareem!
........New post coming soon, on Ramadhaan in Cape Town, South Africa...........Watch this space
Oh Ive missed you all so. So. Without further ado *pompous voice* ..
The pic below is of me and a few friends on a quad biking trail. Does that make me cool? I think not. *settles a bit further into well worn nerdy skin*
My new car. Her name is Yara. She is adorable and quite light on gas. She is also tough, fitted with the latest anti- hijacking gimmicks one can get on the market. I *heart* her.
To honour taqo's tag (I cant be sure if I was tagged or not, but here goes *
Eight things you dont know about me
1) My nickname used to be 'man-eater'. After the way I would reject all male species unworthy of my attention. I am however reformed now. Marriage does that to people *sigh*
2) I used to have purple hair when I was about fifteen. I guess I thought I was being different. All the excitement kind of bled away when my mom said, 'Oh what a lovely colour!'...Go figure.
3) I cant sleep on a bed that has sheets with wrinkles. My sheets have to absolutely straight before I sleep. It drives my husband up the wall.
4) I have hairy fingers and toes (along with around a 98,2% of the females in the Arabian Peninsula..dont deny it. Ive seen you in the salon before your waxes!). So yes, I spend an inordinate amount of money on waxes.
5) I dont eat meat.
6) I hate the colour pink. This comes from being the only girl. Everything of mine was pink. Carpet, lampshade, dresses, pens, pencils, everything. Now I have a pink aversion. I dont own one item of pink anything. I only found this out when i was invited to a 'Pink Party'. Even the word sounds wierd. Pink.
7) I have dry hands. I swear by Body Shop Vitamin E cream. It really really helps.
8) I have five 'new' siblings. Three new sisters and two new brothers. Mother re-married after father was passed away for five years. Mom says she is already a social outcast after I scandalised everyone by moving away from the 'home country' so she might as well. The new step father is a kind, gentle man, and so are his kids. The sisters are very very gentle. They never raise their voices kinda gentle. The "I-wanna-shake-you-just-to-see-if-you-are-alive" kind of gentle. But I love them anyways.
Then following the trend ( I HAVE TO SAY THIS)Embarak 3leekum al shahar, Ramadhaan Kareem!
........New post coming soon, on Ramadhaan in Cape Town, South Africa...........Watch this space
Sunday, July 01, 2007
This one's for women
To all the wonderful amazing women out there who make it through the many difficulties we face..to the survivors (hning), the challengers (jaja, taqo, fishy), the penguins (grabmyboobs!), and all the rest, you are special. And whatever you do, remember your worth!
A woman has strengths that amazes man
She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens
She holds happiness, love and opinions
Smiles when feeling like screaming
Sings when she feels like crying,
Cries when she is happy
And laughs when she is afraid
She fights for what she believes in
And stands up against injustice
There is only one thing wrong with her...
She forgets what she is worth..
A woman has strengths that amazes man
She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens
She holds happiness, love and opinions
Smiles when feeling like screaming
Sings when she feels like crying,
Cries when she is happy
And laughs when she is afraid
She fights for what she believes in
And stands up against injustice
There is only one thing wrong with her...
She forgets what she is worth..
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