6 months on...

And I just had the following conversation with the kid next door:

Nomsa: When is the baby coming out of your belly?

Me: She came out in June

(Nomsa sometimes gets her tenses wrong)

Nomsa: Not that baby. The one that's in your belly now. 

Me: There's no baby in my belly now.

Nomsa: Really? Only food? 

Me: Only food.

Nomsa: You know, God says that lying is bad.

Me: No really, it's only food.

Nomsa. You are lying. Food can't be that big. It's a baby

*sigh*

Does that mean I should join a gym?

Entering the car economy

When riding around with friends with cars, I always had the job of paying the car guard. Because I always had a purse full or R2 coins, and for some reason that was completely beyond me, people driving cars never had change. I never understood why. It's true that I hoarded change, because it was useful on taxis….but that couldn't be all.

And in fact, I realized this week that it wasn't all, when I was pulling out of the parking lot, and had no change for the car guard. 

For the past month, I have been driving everywhere I go, even if it's to the park to go for a walk. As a result, I go to places which are car friendly, I stock up, and I pay with a credit card. I no longer walk by the Yeoville market and buy vegetables for dinner for R8. I don't pick things up from street vendors, where I used to do most of my shopping. I drive to Fruit n Veg and put R500 on my debit card. In fact, since getting a car, I haven't drawn cash at an ATM, which I used to do once a week. 

I have become suburban! We hold the hope that no condition is permanent….

Entering the cash economy

I live next door to a 6 year old boy. He's lovely, and good company. We hang out a lot. For the past couple months, it has been more than a lot - his mother has decided he's now old enough to stay home alone after school (he didn't like after care, which was at his former creche), which, in practice, meant he came over to my place for 3 hours every day till his mother got home from work. We would do all the expected after school things - make a snack, read stories, draw stuff, play games, and so on. Usually, it was fun.

All that changed last week - as 6 year old - mother negotiations work, he's managed to get an allowance of 3 Rand each day (about $.30). This is enough money to buy about 15 sweets from the spaza shop across the street. So he now shows up at my door with both hands full of sugar-filled wrappers, and begins his after school sweets bonanza. This generally well behaved, fun, sweet child transforms into an unbearable, bouncing off the walls, hysterical, not listening sugar monster in about 15 minutes. I send him home right away, and he proceeds to watch television for the whole afternoon.

It just highlights the urgency with which I want to get out of Joburg before my sweet innocent little baby transforms into an after school sugar monster (it's only a matter of time). 

Passing Home Affairs Woes on to the Next Generation

I have been chronicling bits of my home affairs frustrations here and here (still no progress on the ID book, by the way). Now there's a whole new person to fumble through the system.  Fun home affairs facts with a new baby:

- The jury is out about when and whether double barreled surnames are allowed, but according to the Randburg supervisor on the day that we went, unmarried parents cannot register the baby under a double barreled surname; they must register it under the name of the father first, and then apply to have it changed (grumble grumble. Why?). So, this is what we did. Lord knows how long that will take. Double whammy, because her well meaning father registered her with my last name as a first name (meaning we also had to apply for a first name change - or my surname would appear twice). I wonder if it will be sorted out by the time she's in college?

- Abridged birth certificates don't have both parents name listed! 

- We applied for an unabridged birth certificate under the old name (on the assumption the name change would take Forever). This is supposed to take 6 weeks. That was 10 weeks ago. 

- To get a US passport, you need an unabridged birth certificate. After Much Hysteria from Grandmother, I'm petitioning the embassy to grant her US citizenship on the basis of other documentation; we have a meeting with them coming up in a few weeks time, will see how it goes.  I'm quite optimistic that they'll be sensible and efficient, in marked contrast to home affairs. 

- Grandmother and her Much Hysteria made me realize how far I've come since my first days of Home Affairs woes. I wonder if any research has been done on dysfunctional systems and zen?  

- Every expat in the world probably has to dealt with this. Family at home wants to meet new baby. Paperwork to let new baby travel takes awhile. It's hard not knowing what and how long and whether. I figure, if I can make it through this round of guilt, I'll be better equipped for the rest of motherhood.

- People in my situation shouldn't plan to take Baby to the US for the first 9 months, to be on the safe side. 6 months is pushing your home affairs luck. Remember, there are lots of steps involved in the process. 1. Register the birth and get an abridged birth certificate, 2. Apply for an unabridged birth certificate. 3. Wait. 4. Take this to the embassy to register the birth, and apply for citizenship and a passport. That's *without* a name change tossed in the mix. 

- The passport section of Home Affairs is rocking. She had a temporary passport from the time she was a couple weeks old, and a  full one well within a month. That's why we're going to India before we go to the US (sorry Grandma, life's not fair!). 

One more way the world is unfair

The Wits campus is a bit of a fortress. When people in South Africa talked about opening the doors of higher education, they certainly didn't mean it literally. As a visitor, you can drive onto campus in a couple different places. The nice attendant at the boom gate gives you a slip of paper, and away you go.  There's only one walking entrance for visitors, however; at Senate House. You must show a photo ID, and tell them where you're going. The process takes significantly longer than driving, and security occasionally calls the person you're going to visit. And the reason the security folks gave me for the measures were because there had been computer thefts on campus. Really. Who takes computers and leaves with them on foot? And not in a car? Really? 

All protocol observed

I had the pleasure of recently attending the first ordinary session of the third pan african parliament, for a post 2015 consultation on governance. Like any institution, it has its own vocabulary and ways of working; one is saying 'all protocol observed' when thanking the relevant chairperson, people who have spoken before, etc. My initial reaction was that this was quaint and charming - until they wouldn't let my baby through security in the interest of 'protocol'. Don't get me wrong - I wasn't trying to take an infant into the parliamentary chambers.  There is a large administrative office block, a huge lawn, and plenty of space around the parliament itself, so I didn't think it would be a problem to have the baby close enough to feed.  A good friend was kind enough to come along and take care of the baby for the day. It turns out, she (and the baby) had to spend the whole day sitting in the Gallagher Estate parking lot because of protocol.  I missed half the meeting because I had to hike up through security every time the baby was hungry. I wonder what else 'protocol' dictates in such forums, and who else it excludes. Given how we go about making decisions, the outcomes shouldn't be any great surprise. 

Where to have a baby in Jozi

Okay. Last mommy blog post, and then we'll be back to the regularly scheduled programming. 

Genesis was amazing. If i have another baby, I'd like to do it in Johannebsurg just so I can go back. It's just a birthing centre, that various health professionals work out of; slightly different from hospitals. It was a fabulous place - the focus is on natural births (though they do emergency C-sections), you get a big, comfortable, private room, with a big bath, shower, chest of drawers, music, garden, etc. The food is good, the staff are *incredible*, and the experience is, all in all, unbeatable. Oh, and it is fully covered by medical aid, without payment upfront, or any paperwork.  And they have a full contingent of related services, from breastfeeding support to antenatal classes. I can't say enough good things about it. 

It's the only place I've ever had a baby, so I can't comment first hand on the places, but I do know people who've chosen other locations:

- Brenthurst and Park Lane. I'm lumping these two together, because they seem quite similar (though Park Lane has a 'stork's nest', which is handy). They're clinical. There's good quality care. C-section rates depends on individuals involved; no particular support or opposition to natural birth. You have to pay for a private room. It's generally functional, and not terribly unpleasant, but not an enjoyable environment. The bigger downside is that it seemed impossible to find any information about how much it would cost and what insurance would cover.  The paperwork headache seemed substantial and thankless.

- Joburg gen and helen joseph. Public hospitals. In general, these have gotten positive reviews from friends who had uncomplicated births and aren't looking for bells and whistles. In Johannesburg, service seems often as good or better in public hospitals than private ones, and c-section rates are actually quite low, since most births are attended to by midwives. Lack of capacity, in an area that's generally over-medicalised, has perks. If my insurance coverage weren't as good, I'd give it a try - I was more worried about the unknown than quality of care. I didn't want to have to learn how to negotiate a difficult system while in labour. Downsides reported is that they're a bit crowded, and you need to sort out all the extras yourself. 

Care work decisions

I got a job offer last month that I feel ridiculous about having turned down. It should have been perfect. It was a part time job. It was flexible. It paid well. I said no. At that point, I hadn't arranged child care (I still haven't), and they wanted someone to start immediately. It was for 8 months - which isn't long in the scope of my career, but seems like forever in the childhood of baby. The problem is, I'm going to have to make the decision at some point. As I'm starting to reconnect to the work world, some things I'm learning seem quite obvious:

- Leaving your child with someone else is really hard! I suppose this is to be expected. But….holy cow! It's really hard! I feel like that ought to be a sign that maybe it's not the way to go….

- One of the blessings of living in South Africa is that good quality child care is readily available, and affordable. Finding it is tricky, since crummy child care also abounds.

- Taking care of a baby is work, even when it's so fun it doesn't feel like it. It's amazing how much you can get done in the 15 minutes snatches where she hangs out on the play mat, but basically, large tasks (and scheduled meetings) have to happen after bedtime (happily, I've now entered a baby stage where there IS a bedtime!). *This* is why mothers are sleep deprived. That may get better when she has a nap schedule? Or a nanny...

- I feel like I'm in a bit of a chicken and egg situation. I can't make arrangements to work without child care, and I can't arrange child care without knowing what my work arrangements will be like. At the moment, I have a corps of babysitters that are great for occasional gap-stopping, but nobody who's slated to come on a regular basis. Obviously, that suits me for the time being, but won't as I step up work commitments.

- I want to raise my own child. And I want to work. It seems like this is just not done. What a bizarre world we live in! 

Having babies in Johannesburg

Having a baby in another country has a serious learning curve. Having a baby anywhere is quite an experience….but when you add to it a new healthcare system, and no family around, there are stories! I'm sure all of this is completely obvious to anyone who grew up here....but it wasn't to me.

Things that I learned:

- Unless for some reason you have a high risk pregnancy, not only do you not need an ob/gyn to be your first point of call, chances are you don't want one. Find a good midwife. It is more flexible, cheaper, easier, more informative, less medicalised, and an all around friendlier experience. In the hunt for someone to provide medical care, I visited 7 different ob/gyns, and was unhappy with *all* of them for various reasons. Most of them were perfectly competent health professionals, they just weren't what I was looking for. The issues ranged from being too busy to talk to me during a 15 minute appointment, only having 2 free slots for appointments in the whole 9 months of my pregnancy, costing 20x what my medical aid would cover, trying to schedule in a c-section when I was only 20 weeks pregnant, would do the check ups but not the actual delivery, to being an hour's drive away. I was absolutely fed up in a search for an ob/gyn, really wondering how anybody in Johannesburg had children…until I found a midwife! It was such a relief. She was friendly, had time both for appointments, and to talk to me, explained everything, and had what I see as a perfectly positive and balanced approach towards natural childbirth.  I never looked back!

By coincidence, when I found a midwife, she came with a place to have the baby! More on that later...

- Depending on where you go for delivery, they come with lots of 'extras' - lactation consultants, ante-natal classes, and so on. I didn't particularly feel like I needed any of them (or was possibly too busy to take advantage of any of them), but other people I know would have benefitted from them. If you are looking for these things, pick a place accordingly. Otherwise, you'll have to hunt around for these separately....and hunting around for things is low on the list of things you want to be doing when you can't fit into any of your clothes.

- Getting decent information about what your insurance covers and what it doesn't is virtually impossible. After many hours on the phone, I gave up, and concluded it's  better just to save up a little extra money and cross my fingers.  I'm insured by Discovery, which is supposed to be about as good as it gets, and would be impressed if anyone had a different experience with other insurers.

- Being obviously pregnant is a fabulous conversation starter. It's as good as being obviously white on a taxi. This does have a downside (WHY do people think it's acceptable to talk to you about their hemorrhoids?), and the volume of unsolicited advice is astounding, and amusing, but the amount of good will is really lovely. 

- There are hundreds of lists out there of things you need for a newborn. You don't really need any of it, and even if you have all of it lined up, you're still going to have to make a last minute run to the shops, so chill. 

Where to go for baby shots

There are certain things that, no matter how long I've lived in another country, I never seem to understand quite as well as my country of origin. Examples: taxes, retirement savings, and health care systems. I didn't understand how much I didn't know about the health care system in South Africa until having a baby. The pregnancy and delivery lessons are for a different day. For now, the check ups.

I've taken the baby 5 different places now for her vaccines, and have now settled on Genesis, the clinic where she was born. Reviews:

- Meldene Medicross. It was advertised online as a public clinic, but in fact, you do need to pay, and was actually the most expensive of the places visited. The nurses are nice, but people weren't terribly clued up - I called to ask if I needed an appointment for vaccinations and was told no; when I showed up with the baby, I was told yes, though accommodated anyway. Otherwise, the place seems fine.

- Parkhurst public clinic. The wait was just over 2 hours, not bad, and there is a separate 'well baby' area. The downside was there was almost no communication about the baby's general health - more of an assembly line setup. For shots, it would have been fine. However, I was told that since I didn't live in the area, I couldn't come back, and had to start the baby's file at the clinic closest to where I live. If i lived the area, I'd probably go back.

- Bez Valley public clinic. I went twice, once at 11 in the morning, once at 7, and both times was turned away and told to come the next day (after nearly a 2 hour wait) because the crowd was so big. Others in the queue told me that this is a new state of affairs, but this is decidedly the most over-crowded place I went to. May be that I tried to go once on a week with a public holiday? Avoid at all costs.

- Yeoville public clinic. The lines are long, but they move fast if you arrive early. The wait was under 2 hours. The downsides are that the baby must wait with all the sick people, staff are far from friendly, and the xenophobia makes me irritable. On one hand, a good way of connecting to the 'hood. But with a 2 month old baby, just not quite what I was looking for.

- Genesis. The private clinic where she was born. A woman comes Thursdays and Fridays to give vaccines; you text her in advance, and she gives you a time slot. She's incredibly knowledgable, and visits for vaccinations have basically made a visit to the pediatrician unnecessary, because she's so thorough.  It's not cheap, but it's also not much more than health insurance rates.

Conclusion: Private care, in this case, doesn't cost much more than public (if you have insurance). If you don't, the Yeoville clinic was probably the best of all visited so far, but coughing up the extra for Genesis is worthwhile. I see all my principles slipping away with the arrival of the baby....

Carless days are over

I have been bullied by the charming 3 month old into buying a car. This is it.

After one taxi ride from Eastgate in which child screamed for the longest 15 minutes of my life, I decided it was time....that, and my inclination to leave home moved from 2 to about -10. 

It's like a different city with a car; and a different rhythm of life. No longer having to plan around dusk, taxi routes (which fill up quickly at different times of day, which route will let you change taxis in the safest, most convenient place), weather...it makes going out so easy that it's no longer fun!

I'm terrified - of spending all my life moving between malls and gates. Of the way interactions with people asking for money on street corners is bound to change. Of hijackings (I was thrilled that I had discovered a 100% guaranteed way not to be hijacked. I've just given it up...). Of not walking any more. Of raising a child who thinks private car ownership is 'normal'.

But, I'm also very grateful, that at this particular time in my life, I have the choice to have a car. I'm slightly resentful that it's necessary to maintain my independence and live an active life....but, that's where I am right now, and I wasn't getting anywhere pretending it would work to have a kid and not a car. What it has given me is a whole new perspective on the city (more coming up).

New City

She is why I haven't been writing lately. But now that she has a whopping 15 weeks of experience on the planet, I can resurface. She has already shown me a dramatically new side of the city; Johannesburg as a mother! 

Moving weekend

Moving weekend is always a particularly fun time to sit on the balcony and watch the neighborhood go by....there are always amazing things being transported down the street, usually by hand. Sometimes, the stuff itself is entertaining (Saturday, there was a wardrobe that had been converted into a chicken cage). Sometimes, the transport feats are incredible (on Sunday, 6 couches in a row paraded by, on 6 men's heads. I wonder who needs 6 couches, and I wonder how hard it is to see with a couch on your head). Sometimes, the stories created in my head are the highlight (a particularly masculine man went by, carrying a humongous heart shaped glass plate, delicately etched in flowers. I tried to imagine where he lives, and how it will fit in). 

Conflict of interest in action

As most people living on the east side of Joburg know, there is a particular dip in Observatory Avenue, near the Bez Valley park, where it's rather difficult to keep to the speed limit. The hill is steep, there's not much but park on either side of the road, it's quite a distance to the next traffic light - it's an ideal spot to go zOOm, for drivers who are so inclined.

Of course, Joburg metro discovered this, and sets up camp there pretty much every day speed trapping. I don't know anybody with a car who hasn't gotten at least one fine there.  It was a particularly strategic place for the police to set up camp, because a bunch of undergrowth from the park came right out to the road, making it impossible to see them from either direction.

Today, city parks went on a pruning spree. The whole roadside has been cleared, up to the fence. A rather disgruntled crew of metro policy were gathered in a nearby parking lot, no doubt trying to decide what options were available. I wonder how traffic patterns will change....

Spear/Smear of the nation destroyed

I'm not quite sure if I'm thrilled that art is still playing such a cutting edge role in provoking public debate, or morbidly fascinated that there aren't better things to worry about than the president's willy. For those not living in South Africa (or living under a rock), the Goodman Gallery has become The Place To Be in Joburg, when, in the savviest curatorial decision in history, they put up a Brett Meyer art exhibit including a picture of Zuma with his, ahem, hanging out (others have suggested that it could just as well be Vavi - this doesn't make quite as good a news story, though...). As an aside, the rest of the exhibit's quite clever.

The ANC's response was not quite so savvy; what was an opportunity to show a bit of humor and maturity instead sparked protests and court interdicts (which I can't imagine have a chance in the world of getting anywhere, except making noise in the papers....we were starting to get tired of Mdluli anyway). Given that South Africa has some of the strongest jurisprudence protecting satire out there, I'm not sure what the goal is (perhaps build support for certain presidential parts being covered by the secrecy bill?).

Anyway, it seems like every time these furors erupt in public discourse, I come away feeling very un-South African (maybe home affairs saw something to make them delay my ID book application). In very much the same way I feel un-American when the conversation turns to politics in Nebraska. I'm generally surrounded by 'leftish' public intellectuals, most of whom were strongly supportive of the ANC (and many of whom still are), while still being critical of the corruption, neoliberalism, materialism, and other nasties are now part of the ruling party. Whether or not I agree with their take on issues like this, I'm acutely aware of a complete chasm that exists in mindsets between them, and the ANC supporters protesting for the removal of the painting. I can't even blame this one on economic inequality, because I feel the same chasm when my mother starts talking about Sarah Palin.

In cases like this, you can't completely avoid the discussion of who's right (there's some sort of responsibility to public discourse to hash it out, at least until the newspapers get bored)....But at the risk of sounding like a marriage counselor, I'm not sure being right is the point (even though it's to know I'm right). The more important questions aren't battled out in the media...given all this, how can we still work towards all the things we do agree on? The current levels of unemployment are shocking whether you think the depiction of Zuma is racist of not. As the DA and Cosatu are at loggerheads about a youth wage subsidy, why is the discussion about the disagreement in means, instead of how to achieve the shared goal?

Soap Oils

I've been talking about soap making enough that it finally gets a post. There are plenty of online tutorials for how to make cold process soap, so I'm not going to repeat the basic information. I will, however, localise it a bit. There don't seem to be too many artisanal cold process soap makers in this part of the world (or, they don't have much of an online presence - or, I just haven't come across them yet); this surprises me, given that you can find boereseep at so many padstaals across the country.

I already wrote about where to find lye in Joburg; I'd imagine in rural areas, finding pure caustic soda is somewhat easier.

Some discoveries I've made on oils:
Coconut oil is tricky to get. It really does improve the quality of soap dramatically, so if you're tempted to skimp on it because it's hard to find or expensive...think twice. The exception is if you want to render your own tallow, which makes a reasonable substitute (though an even better compliment). If I didn't live in a flat in Yeoville, I'd do this more often - but without a place to cook outside and a massive freezer, it's not really worth the work and mess. So, I buy coconut oil from Windrose. I like that you can order online conveniently, in a range of quantities; if anyone has other suppliers to recommend (or wants to split up super big bulk orders), shout.

Sunflower seed oil is also tricky. It's a very common cooking oil here, readily available, inexpensive - and not the best for soap making. It's very good if kept strictly at under 10% of your base oils; but any more than that, and the soap tends to be too soft (and rumour has it will spoil, though I've never had that happen before). The exception is if you're making detergent, or laundry soap; a useful thing with used sunflower seed oil.

Most other good base oils are readily available and not terribly expensive. Palm oil is everywhere and used for everything. Ditto with soybean and canola, though they tend to be heavily genetically modified. Olive oil's predictably expensive, but available in bulk without much hassle; getting pomace is harder in Joburg, but can be found by perusing joints that press their own oil in the Western Cape (if anyone knows of good pomace suppliers in Joburg, please let me know). There are lots of fabulous specialty oils, like marula, avocado, and macadamia, that I always try and look for when I'm in the right parts of the country; I'm always looking around for recommendations if people know of great sources! But these are generally best as super-fatting oils, rather than bases.

Used cooking oil is fabulous for making run of the mill soaps and detergents.  I can easily get used palm oil from local restaurants; I just strain it, add some fresh coconut, soybean, and canola oil to it for a laundry soap batch, and it works brilliantly.  You can make soap with bacon grease and there's no smell at all; used cooking oil's just fine. It doesn't make A grade soap, but is perfect for general household purposes.

Some discoveries on soap molds:
I'm still looking for someone to make me the perfect wooden soap mold :) In the meantime, however, there are lots of good options. 1 liter juice (or long life milk) cartons work great; they're just the right size. I haven't managed to find an ideal plastic ware size/ shape. There seem to be more people making melt and pour soap than cold process in Joburg, and as a result, getting those plastic or silicon fancy shaped soap molds is relatively easy; however, I don't like them much, and would rather use a shoe box.

Out My Window This Week

1. The neighbors. Now that the leaves have almost fallen off the trees, the views into the flats across the street are unobstructed. Happily, I have curtains. Unhappily, most of the neighbors do not. I suppose there ought to be some sort of urban camaraderie in the guy next door smoking in his boxers while I'm sitting out on the balcony having my morning coffee. I haven't found it yet. It's too cold to be eating breakfast outside anyway.

2. The Jesus Mobile. There has been a very large, bright blue combi driving around, with a life sized Jesus and megaphone on top, playing gospel music. I don't know where it comes from, but it goes by about twice a day.

3. The sun! I'm on the south side of the building, which means as winter comes, I get more direct sunlight.  First thing in the morning, it's fabulous!

4. The Rat saga continues. I'm quite happy to watch them dance in the gutters as I do the dishes, but apparently folks on the first floor have started getting them as visitors. Not so great. I wouldn't mind a good excuse to get a cat! We'll see.

5. Vuvuzelas. With the Pirates win last night, they're back with a vengeance. During the day, a block away, I feel content patriotism. All night, right under the window, is a different story. 

Re-loving The Troyeville

I'm now rediscovering Johannesburg - with a toddler! I figure the trial run won't hurt. A good friend of mine has an 18 month old boy, who is sweet, but active (and currently likes to throw anything that will hold still long enough; double points if it makes a loud noise). I'm now thinking of going out in new ways.

The Troyeville Hotel has been a favorite haunt of mine more or less since I've come to Joburg. The crowd is unpretentious, the food is reliable and good, and the place has something for every mood; you can take your grandmother there for a formal Sunday lunch, or your friends can take you out for a raucous party (with good beer). While I don't quite qualify as a regular (the true regulars are like permanent fixtures to their bar stools), I regularly bump into people I know and like. It's hard going wrong. But just how toddler friendly would it be?

As it turns out, more than I ever could have dreamt. It helps that it was a Monday night and we were there early, so it was very quiet. But one of the waiters picked up on the fact that my friend and I were trying to sneak in snatches of adult conversation in between chasing the bub from table to table, and whisked him off for a backstage tour of the kitchen. Baba managed to charm everyone so much that we didn't get nasty looks for leaving our paper table cloth in confetti around the balcony. We were kept well supplied with little plastic butter tubs to throw (which don't cause too much damage), and bub could do laps around the balcony as we ate. The pot plants were big enough to be an attraction, and too big to dump over/ spill out/ tear up. It was just the right level of stimulation to keep a toddler totally enthralled, and not overwhelmed.

Thank you Troyeville Hotel, yet another reason you're one of my favorite places to hang out in Joburg.

Reviewing Ramen

Braamfontein is trying to re-take center stage on the Johannesburg culinary scene; one of the new places that's sprung up is Ramen, in that little plaza between de Korte and Juta streets. They advertise free wifi, and I'm always on the hunt for hangouts with good food and wireless. They are few and far between in Joburg, and generally not the easiest to access via public transport. Melville seems to have a concentration of these joints (though often without the good food), but I'm convinced it's not necessary to schlep to the west side of town. I'm digressing.

So, it's possibly my own fault for expecting an authentic Japanese noodle shop....because authentic, it is not. The menu boasts of one noddle option, wraps, curries, and bunny chows. The drink options are limited to things that come out of cans (I was really geared up for a fresh juice. Or a ginger beer. I had to settle for Lipton's Peace Iced Tea in a can. Bleh).

The food was mediocre - made fresh to order, though it had too much sauce, clearly from a squeeze bottle, with no strong affiliation to Asian cuisine. The service was very friendly and quite efficient (yay!). Prices were good (R50 for lunch).

The clientelle was....interesting. Not quite what I expected. I spent about an hour and a half there, and of about 30 people who filtered through, I was the only woman (perhaps I was hyper aware of this, because I was working on a discussion paper on gender justice. But it was still odd - and true of the adjoining coffee shop, as well). Lots of businessmen, mostly middle age and in suits. I was also the only one working on a laptop. It definitely hasn't managed to cultivate the vibe of an inviting, hip place to spend some time and get some work done. I'll probably still be back, for the sheer convenience. But 44 Stanley still wins for a place I'd actually aim to spend time.

Lying Jackpot in Jozi

I have a slight obsession with making soap. But one dilemma that has tripped me up lately is where to get lye in Johannesburg. I've been through a range of options, but haven't been satisfied with any of them. Chemical companies will sell it, but you must go through a slightly obnoxious process of putting in a purchase order and waiting until they have stock, then collecting in random corners of City Deep, Krugersdorp, or Kempton Park. Large pharmaceutical suppliers are in the same boat, but generally charge twice as much. To make this even less convenient, you generally either have to pay a ridiculously large amount for small quantities, or get 50 or 100 kg bags (which I don't particularly want sitting around my flat. This is, after all, a dangerous chemical).

The one rocking soap shop I've found (which I actually love for many things) only sells cold process soap supplies in quite small quantities (it's great for additives, like Bentonite and Kaolin clay, and packaging ideas); 500g of lye won't even make a whole batch.

Builder's Warehouse used to stock lye, but quit several years ago. I thought I might have luck at plumbing stores, or industrial cleaning product stores, but have been met with blank stares, or directed to drain cleaners that have a bunch of other chemical stuff added. Part of it might be that I was asking for the wrong thing (sodium hydroxide, or lye, won't get you far. It goes by caustic soda).

Having just run out of lye again, and unhappy with my most recent supplier (a chemical supply company in City Deep, where I could get 10 kgs of lye in 1kg bottles for R80/kg). First, I don't particularly like their over-packaging (the bottles are a funny size, and I can't very well come up with any way of reusing them). Second, I think they're overpriced. Third, they're inconveniently located. Three strikes.

This morning, I was going to make another run through the yellow pages to see if I couldn't find a better supplier. I was getting keys cut at the Mica at Eastgate, and though I had asked there many times before and not found them able to either sell me sodium hydroxide or tell me where I could procure it, I swung by the plumbing section on a whim. In a dusty corner were 5kg buckets of pure caustic soda flakes, for R169. The manager assured me it was pure sodium hydroxide. Made by Resinate, based in Benoni. Packaged in a fabulously useful bucket.

I feel like I just won the lotto! Tomorrow I'm going to test with a big batch of soap!

Garbage Gutters

One of the top objections many people have to Yeoville is that it is dirty. The Dad fusses that it is 'unsightly', and the Yeovue News (when it was still around) used to bemoan the littering that took place. On one hand, it's hard to argue with facts. There is trash on the streets. When Pick-it-up doesn't make an appointment, there are piles of garbage on the street corners; and the day or two before garbage collection, the park usually looks pretty grotty.

The other day, The Dad made a comment about how it must be possible to fix it - he came up with a few technical suggestions, like placing big dumpsters on street corners. or distributing more bins. I objected, seeing the refuse problem as reflective of a broader issue of a too-high density area with lots of squatted buildings, all around poor service delivery, and high levels of poverty, all of which contribute in various ways to the garbage in the streets.

But more to the point, I'm curious about why this garbage doesn't particularly bother me, when other people have such a strong reaction to it. I see it more as a reminder of the work all of us need to do to make the world a better place than a problem to be fixed, as such. Coincidentally, I remember feeling similarly when landing in Mumbai 15 years ago...exchange students from all over were so upset by the garbage on the streets, which I just kind of filed away.

I see lots of reasons why cities need a good refuse disposal system - public health is important. But why are bags of garbage on the streets unsightly, when kids out of school a weekday aren't? Or racially segregated neighborhoods? Or all the cars coughing out pollution? Or the high walls and security systems in Houghton? Or the inability to see the stars because of all the light pollution? I'm not saying I love having garbage around; but I'm relatively confident that with a good development plan, management, and resourcing, that can be sorted out without too much trouble. I'm more upset about the high walls, which seem harder to solve, and on the whole, more damaging to public health...

Out my window this Friday

1. The candle light vigils (whatever they were for) have ended, and been replaced by bonfires, lit by the homeless people sleeping in the park. Winter is on its way, the nights are getting chilly. Homelessness is a problem; fire hazards are a problem, what to do?

2. Rooftop gym. 2 buildings up, an impromptu gym has been set up, and there have been people lifting weights every evening. Most of the equipment is improvised (paint cans filled with cement to make dumbbells), and most of the guys are buff enough that it doesn't look like they need much exercise....Still, it makes me wish we had a flat roof; like so many buildings around, it adds fabulous communal space to a building.

3. Sports week! One of the schools nearby (I'm not sure which one) took over the park next door for sports this week. They set up cones, obstacle courses, race tracks, and had the usual assortment of leapfrog, 3 legged races, and walking like a duck. It made the week noisier than most, but more entertaining.

4. Mynahs, mynahs everywhere. All the migratories have long gone; now we're down to the rough and tumble city birds that stick out the winter.

5. To let again; the occupation of the flat across the way only lasted for 2 days, now it's to let again. So much for my optimism about renting being easy...

The ID saga continues

Feeling unusually hopeful on last week Wednesday, I called Home Affairs to check up on the status of my recent ID book re application. More on the saga here and here. I always start with the toll free enquiries line, and move from there. Bad news.

Once again, my application has been sent from Harrison street, and not received in Pretoria. This is a process that should take 2 days, and it's been over 3 months. Call center conclusion? I should go to Harrison street, figure out how they are sending my application, obtain 'some kind of tracking number or something' and then find out what went wrong.

I mull on this advice for a day, check with a friendly immigration-lawyer-friend to see if he can shed any light on the situation, and Thursday, I call Harrison street directly, in hopes that I won't have to go there in person. There are 3 numbers listed for the office on the dha website. Between Thursday of last week and this Tuesday, I spent 11 hours (count them, 11) calling them (automatic redial on skype), and nobody picked up.

So this Tuesday, I called the cell phone of the regional manager. She was polite, helpful, and sounded like she knew what was going on. Apparently, what is taking so long is that they must confirm my permanent residence permit. Issuing my permanent residence permit took 6 weeks, and confirming it has now taken 11 months, but nevermind. I should go to the first floor of Harrison street, and ask to talk to the supervisor of the ID section, who used to be (but is no longer) Thandi.

Once again, hoping to save myself a trip to Harrison street, I phoned, and this time, miraculously, got someone to give me a direct number to the ID section (I feel like this is a heavily guarded state secret). I am told that the applications generally take 3 months to reach Pretoria, and I should phone back next week Thursday. I've had the 'phone back next week Thursday' conversation with DHA many times before. I think it's the Home Affairs equivalent of 'don't call me, I'll call you'. I feel rejected. And may have to trek back to Harrison street one of these days. At least when my belly enters a room 3 steps before I do, I get some sympathy standing in the queues.

Pregnancy faux pas

I got asked 4 times this morning if I'm having twins. No, no I'm not. I am, however, outgrowing maternity clothes. I didn't realise that was possible. Ah, the learning curve that comes with reproduction....

Money is the new dompas

I was sitting next to the taxi driver on the way to Braamfontein this morning. In the ashtray, there was a a scrap of paper, with a doodle of a dog on it. A very artistic doodle. Not a photographic likeness of a dog, but you know those sketches that manage to capture the 'doggy-ness' of that particular dog, sometimes in more revealing ways than a photograph would? Anyway, I was enchanted, so I asked him if he had drawn it. It was like the floodgates had opened. The story of why he never studied art should be turned into a book some day. It was one of the most eloquent sketches of transformation in contemporary South Africa I've heard; I wish I'd been able to record it. I just remember snippets, here and there; the title is one of them...

....we were constrained then, by police, asking for our passes. Now it's tsotsis asking for money. Sometimes the tsotsis are criminals, street thugs. Sometimes they work in banks, and wear suits. Either way, they constrain us as much as apartheid did. I still wonder if my son could become an artist in South Africa.
......before it was the whites displacing us, now it's the Zimbabweans.

Every time I have conversations like this, I want it to be simultaneously transformed into a story, and an excerpt for my PhD....

Out my Window this week

Several blogs I read have some sort of Friday round-up....links they like, what they read this week, WTF Friday.....One of the things I love about living in Yeoville is being able to watch all the weird and wonderful (and terrible) things that happen out my window. So, here's my first weekly list. Next month, I'll add pictures! But the building is still sorting out our wireless connection, so for now you'll have to use your imagination.

1. The evangelical churches have set up a candle light vigil around the palm trees in the park. I have no idea what it is for, but there are candles burning on the ground all night. With the park currently full of litter and dry grass it's probably a fire hazard. But charming.

2. The Red Ants evicted a whole building just down Frances street. It was 8:00 at night and cold. Even though it was horrific, it became a bit of a street party; the evictees blocked off the road with bonfires, and lined the streets with couches and beds. Within a couple days, things had largely been cleared out, people must have made arrangements....Several buildings were hit last month, I wonder if that means investors are coming in?

3. The rat living in the drainpipe across the street had babies. It should probably make me go EW, but they're actually quite cute to watch scampering in and out of the storm drain. If they come too close, we may have to invest in a building cat.  But for now, we seem to have achieved a comfortable urban symbiosis.

4. The building facing my kitchen had a tenant move out on Monday. Tuesday, they put up a To Let sign. Wednesday, someone moved in. They haven't been there long enough for me to know anything about them (except their curtains are white), but it gives me hope that I may be able to let me place out quickly, should the need ever arise. That said, my rent would probably be triple what a family pays for the living room across the way.

5.  The Sunday Soccer Spectacle. Having decimated the north side of the lawn, the game has now moved right below my window. Blood was actually drawn last weekend about one of the referee's calls. 

Lawyers are scary

In an effort to prepare for all eventualities (and taking advice from friends who have gone through nightmare divorces), I'm trying to drag The Dad along to a mediator to develop a parenting plan, and set up a joint bank account to pay for Baby. I have seen two lawyers in my life, one is my uncle who always took care of everything remotely financial/ legal/ etc. in the family, and other other is the immigration lawyer I hired to help get permanent residence in South Africa (after 2 study permits, 2 work permits, and a gazillion tourist visas, it was the best investment I ever made).

Most people I can find in Joburg who help develop a parenting plan are divorce lawyers. Which is sensible, except neither of us have ever been married....There seem to be a few other ways to go to get the service done, but not that many that expect you to be amicable in the process. FAMSA will allegedly help (though I've now phoned 3 times and not managed to have anyone get back to me), as will the Family advocate at the department of justice (though they apparently have nobody to pick up the phones there on Friday). Apparently, social workers can do these things....but where does one find social workers in Joburg? Presumably you can't just corner anyone with a degree in social work. Add it to the list of things that I wonder how people 'normally' do.

Great Durban Salt March?

My discovery for the day: we pay VAT on iodated table salt. Apparently, it doesn't qualify as an 'essential food item'. Given that it only costs about R6/kg, I don't envisage mass protests. I was just surprised, checking my grocery receipt. I wonder how that decision got made....

The fieldwork begins...

Just when I'm getting so round I'm ripping the seams of maternity clothes, funding has come through to start fieldwork...so I'm now scrambling to see what I can possibly get under way in the next 5 weeks, so that in my dreams, by the time the baby arrives there will be fabulous, well trained researchers all over the shore diligently gathering data as I recover, and by August I'll just have to fill in a few gaps, follow up on a few interviews here and there, and analyse what's been found.

I also think this is probably impossible and insane to be attempting to set everything up in 4 sites in about as many weeks (with no preparation), and wonder what's going to end up being neglected in the process.  Whee!

Little Baby on the Prairie gone wrong

Blob has about 6 weeks to go before it gets a name, and I feel like I ought to be preparing. In that light, I found internet advice for how to make your own baby wipes. As experiments in the kitchen go, this seemed like a pretty tame one. Paper towels, soap, oil, voila! Sounded worlds easier than yoghurt, soap, and other domestic tricks I had to work a bit to figure out.

Well, now I have a big wad of wet, papery bleg in the kitchen, that reminds me vaguely of the gloop we used to make paper mache stuff with as kids. Oops. Maybe the paper towels I got weren't high enough quality (I don't really know what to look for in a paper towel)? All the online recipes seem more or less the same, so I can't imagine that's the problem....This may be one that's just easier to get at the shops; we'll see. 

Wrong about e-tolling

Yesterday, I had the good fortune of having dinner with a lovely woman named Jane, who happens to know as much as anybody out there about E-tolling. I'm still not exactly sure why toll roads happen to hit a nerve that other moves towards privatization don't, though she had some insight (it feels invasive. It's in-your-face. It's visible). But, I'm happier with it being a focal point at the moment for citizen mobilisation.

People need a victory. Civil society at the moment is disillusioned and disempowered. Successes, from whatever surprising corner they may come from, are important for building momentum in other spaces. Someone else at dinner pointed out that as soon as the month long postponement was agreed on, there was an immediate spill over into wage negotiations, with workers demanding higher increases. It's pretty cool if people really are feeling a sense of power coming from this.

It is about solidarity. If one person can't drive on the road because of the user fees, that's one person too many. Nice to hear the sentiment articulated. I'd rather it be applied to water, electricity, and education....but as others pointed out, when that was happening 10 years ago, the world was a different place, and if people weren't in a place to make it happen then, maybe they are now, and that's good.

It's not just about people being gatvol with middle class taxes....it's about people being gatvol with government getting things wrong; and that's good. Frustration about corruption, no transparency, circumvented decision making processes....that's all good for the country.

One step at a time. It does seem like frustration with crummy public transport would be a better target than frustration at road tolls....but that doesn't have an opportunity, a moment, and a target.  So there's not much space for a win there. On tolling, there is. And by the way it's looking, it really will be a victory. Unused gantries will sit along the road and remind everyone that they can keep government accountable.

How public are any south african schools?

Being the neurotic planner that I am, I'm thinking about schools for Blob. I was feeling quite smug about living in Yeoville, where there are bunches of spectacular schools in walking distance. After having lunch with someone at a conference who is providing me with all sorts of baby advice, the smugness has turned to trepidation.

Boy, was I naive. Coming from small town America, I assumed public = you don't have to pay. You register the kid at registration time, the kid shows up when classes start, and twice a year you get hit up for the costs of extra music lessons or sports trips. Ha! Says The Dad. Apparently, public in South Africa means the state pays some base subsidy of the teacher's salaries. But 'good' public schools pay their teachers much more, and school fees make up this difference. Gosh, what a spectacular way to entrench inequality from the youngest possible age.

I always assumed Blob'd go to a public school (more diverse, still good education, less snooty)...but now I'm wondering. I did a cursory comparison of a good public school (king edward) and a good private school (sacred heart) both within walking distance of home, and they appear to charge comparable fees (R30,000/ year. Are they NUTS?! How can that be normal?), and from a cursory glance, they don't seem to have tremendous differences in socioeconomic makeup - if anything, the private school seems slightly more progressive. What to do...?  Seems like all other parents just suck it up and pay - maybe I should too, but it gives me the moral heeby-jeebies.

Anyway, I'm irritated at the claim that a school is public when fees are higher than lots of peoples total incomes. I feel like a fabulous constitution is being cheated. And, South Africa spends a higher portion of its national budget on education than any other country in the world....how can it be so grossly mismanaged?

I think every public servant should have to send their children to public schools, and use public transport. I bet both would improve more quickly (any time I say this in public, people look at me like I've grown a third arm. Is it really such an odd suggestion? It seems like a no brainer....).

The toll roads of Johannesburg

Everyone in Gauteng is weighing in on e-tolling - at least, everyone who uses the highways. There appear to be two camps emerging. One who thinks that middle class South Africans are already over taxed and pay far too much for everything service related and this is just another way of raiding their wallets, and one who thinks people should cough up, that it's inevitable, and that there are more important things to scream and shout about.  Both, it seems, miss the point.

It's undeniable that in general, private car ownership levels (everywhere in the world, and South Africa particularly) should be much lower. Right now, instead of people paying for the cars they drive, people feel the affects of climate change, and that's a crummy system. I'm all for making cars (and various other manifestations of the petrochemical industrial complex) unaffordable for most people. But that's not what the tolling system does. Gauteng commuters aren't going to give up their cars because they have to pay to use the freeways. They're just going to grumble a bit. Everyone will insist it's because there isn't adequate public transport, but mostly people don't know what public transport there is. As The Dad says - no middle class South African takes public transport.

The new tolling system isn't going to change this. It's not going to create financing for transport (since, allegedly, most of the money involved is going to Austria). It's not going to do anything to combat the environmental and social damage that private cars cause. As far as I can tell, the real problems are:
- corruption (from lack of transparency to South Africa's wealth being shipped off to Europe)
- a development path that is increasingly privatized and exclusionary, moving the country closer to the military industrial complex and farther from social inclusion and environmental sustainability

But you find these two things in many, many moves by government these days. Why single out toll roads? We could just as well scream and shout about banking regulations, various government decisions around equating 'progressive realisation' with 'privatisation'; the list is long. The unions are being opportunistic my hitting on an issue that will get a rise out of a pretty wide swath of the middle class; but I'm afraid they're just making a point of flexing their muscles within the alliance, instead of actually working for meaningful change.

Why is Home Affairs Like a Volvo Repair Shop?

Out of morbid curiosity, I checked the progress of my most recent ID book application at the Home Affairs call center yesterday. In an experience of de ja vu, I was told that my application was sent off from Harrison street a month ago, but has never been received in Pretoria. I should go back to the Harrison street office, and figure out what happened to it (for those of you who missed it, this is the same fate my other 2 applications met with, and I was always told first to wait - and wait, and wait - and then to reapply). Apparently, they should be able to 'explain to me their system for sending things to Pretoria', and give me tracking numbers. My optimism on this front isn't high. I asked if I couldn't just re apply in Pretoria, and was warned off with stories of terror should I get issued 2 ID books.

Meanwhile, The Dad has been having problems with his Volvo. It's the second time in as many years that he's had to replace the radiator. As an oldish used car, it needs a fair amount of TLC....but you generally don't plan to keep replacing the same parts. There is also a recurring oil leak, something funky that keeps springing up with the coolant....We have lurking suspicions that some of these ongoing problems are not being helped by the skills of the Volvo repair folks. They have generally been nice about charging at-cost for parts (when they've been defective but out of warranty), reducing labour costs, etc. Which is nice, though only helpful if the underlying problems eventually get solved.

So what we're both finding that the more incompetent the service provider is, the more tied you end up being to them. I can't leave Harrison street out of fear that if I go to some more organised Home Affairs office, my application is already irredeemably screwed up (and in fact, nowhere else will accept an application from me until things are fixed at Harrison street, because documentation on all my mis-sent applications is on the central Home Affairs system). Similarly, he can't go to any other more competent service center, because he would then have to fork out a fortune to fix all the problems caused by the first incompetent repair folks...whereas now, at least he can work with them through what's going wrong. And we can compare notes of our ongoing sagas. 

Personal finance in Joburg

Preparing not to work for the next 6 months has obviously required a fair amount of time getting my financial house in order. In doing this, I read personal finance blogs from time to time. Most of them are American (is that jut where bloggers are? Or where money is? Or some combination thereof?). It seems like most personal finance blogs have, somewhere in their archives, a guiding manifesto - 10 key points to follow, a list of easy ways to save, etc. Inevitably somewhere on these lists is 'make sure you never ever pay a penny in bank charges;' it always irks me, because it's undeniably good advice - and totally not an option in Jozi. I'm sure in the big picture, American banks are no less evil than South African banks....but they're certainly far more consumer friendly (and there are lots of friendly, local cooperative alternatives - Farmers and Merchants State Bank in Wayne, I love you!).  This is one of the few times I think the entitled view of a foreigner might be helpful ;)

Choosing a bank in Joburg seems like a choice between exploitative and evil.....One of my most frequent gripes is about bank charges (which, after groceries, utilities, transport and telecommunications is usually my highest monthly expense. It's considered normal to pay a fee to deposit money in your own account, which probably pays you no interest. Really. Free deposits are a perk your high monthly fee might cover). I find something fundamentally wrong with the fact that I pay a bank R80 a month for the privilege of using and investing my money - but the worst part is that I have no choice!

Apart from small scale, informal stockvels, there aren't formal cooperative savings banks. Nobody, it seems, apart from the big, nasty corporations, has access to the financial infrastructure of the country. I've heard analyses on why from various people who should know, and it always seems to boil down to a very unsatisfactory amalgamation of the highly regulated industry, history, barriers to entry, old boys club, tight connections with mining, neoliberal development paths, etc....all true, I'm sure, but that doesn't make it any less lousy, or any less fixable. Making financial services pro-poor seems like a no-brainer if  you're trying to boost equity.  As things are, banks are hugely exclusionary.  Before I got a grown-up job, I stuffed cash under my mattress; it was a better deal than a student bank account (though, completely impractical)! I don't quite understand why nobody else is outraged.

If The Dad and I open a joint bank account for tiny blob, maybe I'll try and disinvest, and just do all my banking from the  US...

A Day At the Office

I just spent half a day at an office. A real office! It was the first time in years (honestly, 5 of them), and I found it exceptionally enjoyable. Doubly enjoyable, because I could be there, and not share in their stress. Everyone is preparing for a big conference, and tensions were running high. People were running up and down, there were last minute meetings with raised voices as the details of everything were being finalised. The telephone switchboard quit working mid-morning, and Telkom had to be called in. There were only 25 people in the office, but from the buzz, you'd swear it was twice as many.

Through it all, I got to sit in a quiet little corner, and plug along at the piece of work I had to do, offering occasional sympathetic head nods as people ran by upset and tense.  It made me realise how much organisational bandwidth gets consumed feeding the organisation. I felt that in my previous job - like I only spent half my time actually doing things and the other half being consumed by vague organisational imperatives (circular email conversations in which everyone and their dog is cc:ed. Trying to schedule a teleconferece, in which a minimum of 2 attendees are travelling at any given time. Trying to figure out who has the mandate to make a decision about whatever) I don't have a solution to this - when organisations grow, they need switchboards (which sometimes break, and cause havoc), cooperation (which takes time) and systems (which are sometimes slow). I was just happy to be around it, and not part of it for the day, and hope to continue sitting smuggly and productively in a corner. 

Waddling to Work

I thought the next 2 months would be the perfect time to sneak in some short term work projects; to make sure the bank account doesn't deplete too rapidly before the arrival of Blob, and to savour the last few days of professional focus, before my life becomes a blur of diapers and sleep deprivation.

I am very thankful that I've managed to find a piece of work to fill some time. What I didn't count on is how un-charming a time in my life this is to be meeting new people and doing new things. I huff and puff up two flights of stairs. I can't be more than 100 metres from a bathroom at any given time. 8 months in, and garlic still makes me nauseous. Everyone is admiring my 'healthy glow', which I do definitely have. To everyone else, it seems to be a cheerful reminder of some sort of shared humanity. That's great, but to me it's mostly constricted capillaries (read: constant sniffling - imagine a 9 month cold, and spontaneous nosebleeds).

I'm always amazed at how many people gush over their pregnancies - that it was the most amazing 10 months of their lives, how they cherished every second....and with a bit of prompting, will also remember the nausea and heartburn, confess they didn't sleep for months, or were emotional wrecks, or had weeks of bedrest.

Philosophically, I'm having a fabulous pregnancy, and I understand what everyone gushes about retrospectively - it really has been grounding, made me feel centered and focussed on what's important, much more in touch with my body, and so on. But on a day to day level - it's relatively irritating to have to leave a workshop 3 times a morning because of some bodily function. It seems like every time I'm introduced to someone I'm ridiculously out of breath, and it's a good thing I'm not inclined towards passionate speeches, because I start panting after 3 consecutive sentences. I start squirming after 20 minutes in the same chair. Things itch, and twitch, and ache. For the first time since returning to South Africa, I see the appeal to kicking back and putting my feet up. I guess the lesson is that I should be careful about what I wish for; and a reminder to be thankful for what I get! 

Hurry up and wait

As an aspiring consultant still with my NGO employer part time, it's very interesting to see both sides of under-capacity at the same time. In the last two weeks, I've had two phone calls from organisations saying they *urgently* need something to be done this week, and am I available *immediately*? Happily, the only thing work interrupts at the moment is gazing at my expanding navel, so I sign up without hesitation. The problem is, my agreement is inevitably followed up with silence.

I know that silence; I'm responsible for it on the other side of the fence. It's the silence of a last minute reconsideration of the work plan; of an unexpected disagreement in the board; of a hangup on finances; of the crucial project designer catching flu. When I'm on the NGO side of the fence, this silence gives me some breathing space to catch up on the backlog of 100 other things that need to get done. When I'm on the consultant side of the fence, it gives me the chance to sit on the balcony with a spoonful of nutella and try and sort out realistic expectations for Life After Baby.  At some other point, it might make me anxious and irritable - it's very hard to plan your workload! But for now, it's a good lesson in zen.

SWEDOW - baby edition

The aid blogosphere is rife with posts on SWEDOW - Stuff We Don't Want (the latest here). While I'm surrounded by professionals who will rail against the West donating its economy-distorting, supply-chain-damaging unwanted goods to Africa, I'd like to gently nudge them to think closer to home....

So now, the expectant mother, expat version of SWEDOW:
- Anything loud. I'm pretty sure bringing my sister's sons vuvuzelas during the world cup has ruined my karma on this one for life. Even so, I do not want kazoos, trumpets, or drums. Even if my unborn blob won't have the coordination to operate them for 3 years, the 5 year old next door has already done some serious eardrum damage. Yeoville's already loud enough from the outside, contributing more noise is really not necessary.
- Anything to climb on. I live in a flat. I do not have space for this plastic slide. There is a park next door.
- Your SUV-for-babies pram. I'm sure it has dutifully served many mothers and babies. Probably mothers and babies who have a different routine than I do - one that involves more storage space, better maintained pavement and less public transport.
- Your stories about medical child birth disasters. I understand that everyone knows someone who was in labour for a bazillion years, had things that weren't meant to tear ripped to shreds, fluids that are supposed to stay put leak....I'm perfectly capable of creating my own anxiety, thankyouverymuch.
- Your running commentary about my body. I do realise little blob has pretty much made this public domain....but would you go up to your non-pregnant neighbor and start making remarks about their acne, cellulite, or cleavage?
- Baby shoes. A gazillion points for cuteness - but, babies can't walk.
- Plastic things with buttons and speakers. They seem to come in more reincarnations than Buddha, but all have in common their uncanny ability to take up space, make noise in spite of broken speakers, and play the same thing over and over and over.

Lest I become too much of a curmudgeon, I'll balance it off with stuff I DO want!
- Hand me downs! I'm pretty sure there are enough infant blankets, towels, and clothes out there to swaddle the world, without me needing to buy much more of it.
- Friends! You all are fabulous with loads of sage advice and support and I don't know what I'd do without you. Your company and help maintaining my identity and sanity is wonderful.

Earth Hour

I didn't observe Earth Hour this year; I was at a birthday party with a contingent of the city's political left. It involved more car bling outside the gate than the economy of some small countries (is that a Johannesburg thing? Doesn't anyone find it embarrassing to talk about inequality while driving cars worth more than the lifetime income of half the country?  I'm sure I have my fair share of hypocrisy as well...but...Eish). The music was fabulous. I was surprised nobody cut the lights; but it probably wouldn't have changed anything if they had. 

So, I figure I marked Earth Hour a day early, with the residents of flats 4, 6, and 7….Due to the continued siphoning of electricity across the street, we were out of power for 12 hours. I need to get my load shedding rhythm back; last winter, I had a whole routine of things I almost looked forward to when the lights went out - lighting candles, tuning up my viola, taking a warm rosemary bath....It was an excuse to log off, shut down, and unwind. Maybe I'm having a mental block because I don't want to admit that winter's coming. 

M&E Course at the University of Stellenbosch

Last year, I did a postgraduate diploma in monitoring and evaluation from the University of Stellenbosch. Since I had been working as an MandE practitioner for several years, I was quite excited about the course. My work environment really had the feeling of a social startup - a very dynamic and creative environment. While it was great to feel on the cutting edge of innovation on M&E, I was also familiar with the less exciting donor log frames, and wanted to get a sense of what more traditional M&E work looks like. The course came well recommended by some colleagues who had taken it a few years ago. It seems to be nearly the only offering of its kind in South Africa, so I jumped right in. The demand for the course is clearly high, with nearly 100 of us enrolled, ranging from new graduates to mid career professionals, many sent by government or their employers to learn a much needed skill. It's a shame the course was largely by distance, since networking with other students would have been one of the more valuable aspects of the course. 

While I did learn some monitoring and evaluation basics over the course of the year, I was tremendously disappointed by the quality of the course as a whole. The syllabus and readings were solid and thoughtfully selected; but that's pretty much the end of the good news. There were 3 contact sessions throughout the year. I went to the first two, but by the time the third one came around, I was so disillusioned that I gave it a miss. The lecturers were totally unresponsive, and we were graded more or less exclusively on how many references to various readings we used in each sub-section of assignments. While I'm all for objective grading criteria, this smacks of the demise of the American primary education system! At the post graduate level, such discouragement of original thought is ridiculous. 

Instead of spending the year learning about how to conduct a good evaluation, I spent most of the year trying to figure out what the lectures wanted.  After some very poor performances on assignments, I realised the quality of my argument was irrelevant, and it was better to submit something long, pedantic, repetitive, and obvious. This strategy served me increasingly well, and in the end I wrote a very, very long final evaluation report….It stuck religiously to the guidelines of the assignment and the best examples from previous years - and beyond that, I very little thought into it. It had about 10 times the organizational background and one tenth the analysis I would expect of any professional evaluation. The final product was so unhelpful that I rewrote it completely to be of use to the organization that volunteered to be evaluated. It was picked as one of the 'best examples' from the course, and will be passed on to next year's students. This was one of the few times I was horrified to have done so well on an assignment - I would have much preferred to fail! But instead, I lost any remaining faith I had in the value of the course. 

This course exists for people who will be working on M&E in our country - an absolutely crucial skill with service delivery crises at every turn, and with a newly created ministry of M&E. I feel like this new cadre of professionals is being sent the message that M&E is a tick-box exercise. That it's more important to cover your back by nitpicking about details, than to step back and think critically. 

I'm sure the explanations for my experience of the course are many - the course grew at a rapid rate (several years ago, when my colleagues who recommended it were studying, there were about 30 students). The professors were overloaded, trying to balance teaching with consultancy work. Since a large contingent of the students were foreign and it was mostly distance education, it may have been seen more as a money making tool for the university than a serious academic endeavor. Whatever the reasons, for the future of the profession in the country, I hope the university steps up its game in future years! 

Rates bills

It's no secret that the city of Johannesburg has had an ongoing billing screw-up of epic proportions. I suspect I'm benefitting from it....but it makes me feel for the people (who must be out there somewhere) on the other end of the billing stick.

Every month, I get my rates bill in the mail. My "current charges" each month are anywhere between R5 and R20 a month. Really? I know my flat was cheap, but....maybe there's some minimum threshold to owe rates?  Or maybe some neighborhoods (like Yeoville, where banks won't give you a bond to buy) are exempt? Either way, my monthly bills appear arbitrary, and nonsensically small.

But, the plot thickens....Every month, I tell myself I'll pay up when my "total due" goes over R100 - because really, making a payment for R17 isn't worth the bank charges. So, every month I get a bill that has a total amount outstanding, the current charges, and then the charges that are 30 days, 60 days, and 90 days overdue. Each month, the amounts that are 30 and 60 days overdue accumulates to around R40, and I get a menacing notice saying the City of Joburg is concerned with the arrears on this account, and an immediate payment is required to avoid cut off of all services and legal action.

The catch is, no matter how long I go without paying, the amount that's 90+ days overdue stays at 0. Either the city is very forgiving, has a very short memory, or realises that collecting R5 in rates isn't worth the printing cost of the bill. All in all, I'm probably cheating the city out of about R150 a year by not paying. But it seems bizarre that they just quit asking! And if they do get their house in order and decide to collect the last 5 years of back rates I owe them, it still wouldn't break the bank.

Add it to the list of things I wish I understood; maybe it's time for a field trip to City of Johannesburg's billing office; anybody know anybody who works there?

Weekends in Jozi

I'm trying to figure out what weekends mean to me.  After years of working from home, on a 'when it needs to be done' type of schedule, weekends in my mind are really only equated with the best times to avoid banks, parks, bars and shopping malls, because they will be crowded.  Other than that, I could happily mistake any Saturday night for a Tuesday night. Various things along the road have strengthened this, including infamous Westdene Monday night Parties, as longstanding chaotic travel schedules.

Recently, the Dad was in a funk because I didn't give sufficient attention to weekend family time.  My first reaction was...'give sufficient time to what??' But, he patiently explained that most people in the world orient their lives around weekly jobs, children's school schedules, and other things that make Saturdays and Sundays unique.

My first reaction was one of horror - that I may have to define my life according to capitalist-system imposed norms that I reject. Actually, that's still pretty much my reaction.  But I am starting to notice a bit more, the charm of being socialised to a weekly rhythm - appreciating the soccer players in the park every Sunday morning, planning participatory cooking projects on Saturdays because the 6 year olds downstairs   will be at my doorstep expecting entertainment. 

Some day, if I have a kid in school, and a more 'normalised' working schedule, I might start defining my life this way. For now, I'm just trying to figure out what it means that the people around me already do....I wonder how pervasive this is?  I suspect less so than someone in a routine job would have me to believe.

Meeting Day One.

I've been very excited about organising a conference this week, as a first departure from my job of many years....

After the 'reliable' driver arrived 45 minutes late, we were nearing our destination in Braamfontein, when some random man reached in the minibus's open window, unlocked the door, and got in, made the driver pull over, repeatedly shouted at us to stay inside and keep our doors locked, and an 'animated' argument ensued with a whole gang of people who were waiting. As it turns out, we had 'rented' a minibus who usually drives a normal route, and the taxi association wasn't impressed by his deviation.

We went on to watch Dear Mandela, a documentary about the ANC's attack on Abahlali.....It was spectacularly made.

I'm afraid the combination of experiences may have managed to terrify the visitors I'm supposed to be hosting....I'm hoping the next few days will be much less eventful, and allow me to feel better organised.  This is not a great foray into working independently....

Working with consultants

Duncan Green at Oxfam just blogged a musing about how to work with consultants.  It's a combination of tips and dilemmas, that generally offers 'things you already know but probably don't always do' types of solutions (such as, have clear Terms of Reference).  Anyway, his post got me thinking....the network I've been working with doesn't get everything right, but I do think we've come up with a kind of organisational 2.0 approach to consultancies that has served us well.

Depending on the nature and structure of the network or organisation, it's pretty likely that somewhere out there,  a couple degrees of separation away, is an ideal skills set for what you need to get done.  Doing a project evaluation? I bet some partner organisation on another project has an M&E officer who has great technical skills and would love to explore a new area of work.  Paying the organisation for their time is very likely to be cheaper than hiring an external consultant, the organisation gets some free staff development (which they probably don't have the time or resources to prioritise) and you have the opportunity to strengthen institutional connections.  It brings in a good balance of 'close enough to our work that we have some quality control', and yet doesn't always involve calling up the same voices, or paying a fortune for something that's not useful.  Everyone wins, and you're more likely to get a result that speaks the right language.

Secondments are fabulous.  If your organisation work globally and you want some regional research done, you can be guaranteed that there are regional organisations who would also like more interface with the global perspective, or vice versa.  Talk to people! Often, think tanks, funders, networks, and others, have identified similar research gaps or priorities. Someone's probably talking about the same sorts of things you are, and would be keen to collaborate on a solution.  Not only is it cheaper for everyone in the end, but the result is inevitably better.

On working with students....I think we've had some of our best and worst organisational contributions from students. It works well if you always keep in mind what students are good at, and what you need (more things you know but may not always do). We've gotten some amazing results coming out of staff meetings with a few 'wish list' bits of work that are creative, ambitious, possibly slightly tangential to our core work, and nobody has the time to develop.  Draft a 1 page description, turn it over to the right set of graduate students, and magic can happen. If, however, you have a specific piece of work in mind and not enough capacity or resources to carry it off, bringing in student support is usually disastrous.

Since I'm now moving to the other side of the consultant / NGO fence, the first gripe I have with NGOs is not communicating enough. I know you're busy. And have a consultation process to go through. But please answer my emails. It's really important if I'm going to adhere to your timelines.

Pets and by-laws

Being on the body corporate of my block of flats has been a real learning experience. I am quite happy that in the two years since I've been in this building, I have managed to move for the terrified recipient of nasty notices about various unauthorized (and usually accidental!) transgressions, to being part of a largely amicable community of people trying to find the best ways of living together. So far, our biggest conundrum has been parking (which, being without a car, I may have a problematically unusual perspective on), but that's a post for a different day.

Todays dilemma is about pets - familiar territory for many people in flats, I'm sure. The general building policy is that dogs are not allowed in the building, and that owners may have one cat. However, in a particular case of rule jiggering, a new owner has just arrived with two small dogs. They are cute, and nobody seems inclined to boot them out. However, a request has come in for two more dogs in the same unit (both of which, we are led to understand, are very small and quiet). This led to research on pet ownership bylaws, and the discovery that only two dogs per 'dwelling unit' are technically allowed by the City of Johannesburg. I can only assume this is not widely enforced, and I would further imagine there are cases in which that's more restrictive than it needs to be; but there you have it, only two dogs without a permit. In the case of our block of flats, it makes sense - units are pretty small, and don't have gardens.

The matter gets more personal, however, since I recently lost custody of my cat, and am in the market for a new pet. I'm trying to make the decision based on as many factors as possible - new baby on the way, its Dad is a dog person, time and presence at home, flat rules, etc. I haven't gotten beyond the thinking phase yet, but candidates include a cat, small dog, chinchilla, and little pig. The little pig option has gotten me to explore more city bylaws around animal ownership. It seems as though the bylaws applying to pets that are not cats and dogs are in the health and safety regulations. These are geared to people raising animals as a larger scale enterprise......Which means as far as I can tell, you can only keep 2 dogs in a flat, but up to 9 chickens!!  Hmm.....

Spontaneous Pool Party

Yesterday, I was snatched by friends for a spontaneous trip to the swimming pool. I'm pretty amazed that I have friends that can supply, at precisely 6 minutes notice, a maternity swimming suit, beach towels, lawn chairs, umbrellas, and entertainment for little girls of varied swimming abilities. The Roosevelt Park swimming pool was my Johannesburg Discovery of the weekend. In the midst of gripes about home affairs and power cuts, it was a nice reminder that this city has an impressive array of public facilities that are exceptionally well maintained and well run. I just forget to take advantage of them sometimes.

The whole place was spotlessly clean and well maintained, it wasn't too crowded, everyone was very friendly, there were enough shady and sunny spots on the lawn to make everyone happy. And it was free!   These little hidden spaces are part of what makes this city wonderful.

Home Affairs

I'm thrilled to be a permanent resident in South Africa, and have the opportunity to get a South African ID book. When I applied, PR status was granted in absolute record time (it took about 6 weeks), and since that was the first permit I had applied for in a few years, I was starting to believe that things at the Department of Home Affairs were improving. My first experience with Home Affairs was in 2005 (prior to that, I had gotten permits while out of the country). A study permit reputed to take 30 days to issue, took almost 2 years. Since then, there has generally been gradual improvement with each subsequent application.

I've always managed to deal with home affairs with relatively good humour; it's part hazing process (weeds out the chancers; you have to really, really, really want to be here to get through it), part collective cultural experience (like complaining about Telkom), part participant observation research for my PhD. That said, when I went in to Harrison street last year in June to apply for an ID book, I wasn't heartbroken by the thought that it could be my last time in that building. Ha!

Since then, my application has been lost three times; I am now tied to the Harrison street office, because apparently once one application is lost, you must reapply at the same office or risk having a duplicate emerge some day (and, as the helpful call center lady said, you really really don't want that). Some office in Pretoria that processes permanent residence ID applications was moving in June last year (and possibly still is). Nobody knows if or when it will function. Neither the online feedback system nor the ministerial hotline have elicited any response. The call center tells me I must go back to Harrison street and reapply for the 4th time, even though there's no indication that my last application ever existed (I'm told that the reference number is 'impossible', even though I have a receipt with it!).

What could it be?  Some racket with the guys who take passport photographs (I've gone through 8 of them now)? Really bad luck? I'm planning to go back for another round of fun on Friday.

I'm also willing to bet my unborn child will get a US passport before I have a South African ID.... (I hope I'm wrong!)