Coping to just cope!

Two tranquilisers and a double Jack-on-the-rocks later, and I somehow managed to zombie my way through the most traumatic goodbye of my life! It was April 2003 and at 24 I was heading off to live in the UK on what I had been promised was a mere two year stint. Visions of romantic weekends in Paris and exciting skiing holidays in the Alps helped anaesthetise the thought of living away from everything I had ever known – my family, my Cape Town…

In 2006 I headed back to Cape Town on my own, determined to never again live away from Home.

But hell, now I am back in England! At least this time it is of my own volition, which makes coping a somewhat different kettle of fish: I can’t blame anyone else for my homesickness! Every day sees me doing something to ease the pain – whether it is eating a tin of Carnation Treat Caramel, yakking two hours away on the phone to my mom or simply sobbing and sobbing and sobbing. We all have different ways of coping with living overseas – and though we each have our very own personal little things we do to manage our feelings, there are some things which are common to ALL of us expat South Africans!

1.Deliberately seeking out fellow South Africans. When I first came over to England, I specifically decided to NOT do this – but to rather make friends with whoever came across my path. My main goal was to become a part of England – TO BELONG – and not to socially and ideologically isolate myself by sticking to my own. At first I thought I found the English to be aloof and unkind, but some of the most precious and loyal friends I have ever had are English… But now that I have South African neighbours (one of Craig’s childhood friends and his darling wife) I DO find their companionship fills me up in a way that being with my English friends doesn’t.
2. Buying exorbitant prices for South African products. Yes, admittedly I do buy boerewors – but other than that, I couldn’t be bothered to buy South African things like Pronutro and Ouma Rusks. (I didn’t buy them when I shopped at Pick ‘n Pay!!) But the proliferation of these South African shops and their obvious success all over England must mean that smells, tastes and even the homegrown logos must meet the need for ‘home’ in plenty of the South African hearts out here.
3. Braaing. I refuse to "BBQ". No way, Jose! We braai with lekker ‘stuks’ of wood and real wors – none of those fatty, grey burger patties and limp pork sausages for me! Our one neighbour commented over the fence a couple of braais ago, “Hey, you Africans are a destructive bunch chopping wood for your BBQ – always needing to burn things!” Hmm… a rather random comment from an otherwise educated, pleasant man – but it shows two things: firstly, how innate our cultural connection to braaing is (and the sense of home and family it creates for us) and secondly, how two cultures, though they seem to do the same thing (braai vs. bbq) are not doing the same thing at all! (Eish – did that make sense?!)

The first 3 years, I found myself drinking plenty of red wine every single night and never once realised it was a daily habit of trying desperately to numb my heart. My walls were constantly bare of any photos of family and friends – as though I could visually block off any reminders of those I’d left behind. Now though, I have as many photographs up as I can – and regularly look through my collection of pics on my laptop in the folder called ‘loved ones’ – because now I’ve realised it is healthier to feel your feelings: it is part of the process of maintaining your emotional health and identity, because otherwise numb denial eats away at you from deep inside like some dark, black sickness…
Craig reads his local Port Elizabeth newspaper on-line every single day! I admire his ability to stay so connected – I cannot bring myself to read the news from home. But at least I’ve gotten used to him playing Radio Algoa on lazy Saturday afternoons! Before, the sound of South African accents and advert jingles was CRUSHING. (The most devastating was hearing ANYTHING by Johnny Clegg and Savuka!!!)
Being pregnant has turned my homesickness from a pesky, persistent 'flu' into something more like fatal cardiac arrest that doesn’t want to stop!! My heart aches neverendingly for my Mommy… Not being able to share this miraculous time with my family is torturous – made worse by the fact that I’d always imagined it would be a very shared, daily adventure – AND, well, these blasted hormones are not making things ANY easier!
Oy, that’s enough for today! Just writing about it is making this ole heart ache…
I’d love to hear how YOU coped (or didn’t!) There is a comment box right underneath these words for you to capture your thoughts (wink).