Becoming South African

Yesterday, I realised that I am becoming more and more South African. It was the third time that I did something typically for a South African woman and I thought “Oh my God…” There are three aspects, the third popping up yesterday making me aware of my transformation, showing clearly that the changes have begun:

Pace: I do not mind anymore if my host mum needs 30 minutes from the taxi station to her house, a distance one could easily do in 10 minutes “European pace”. ‘Black’ South African women walk sloooooowly. At the beginning of my journey here, this would make me crazy. Now, German friends complain sometimes about my walking speed.  

Time: I love to say: “I am coming right now“. It still does not take the South African meaning: “It won’t take more than two hours“, but it goes definitly in the direction of: “I’ll take as much time as I need“. Like it.

Money: The safest place to put money in South Africa is a bra. And a lot of South African women are using their ‘front volume’ to put their cell phones there, too. It was not the first time that I put money in this place yesterday, but it was the first time that I forgot completely about it. I realised this when sitting in the taxi and having a fifty rand banknote only that there must be still some money around…

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