There is a beautiful piece of writing by Jonathan Jansen entitled “My South Africa”. In the final paragraph he says “My South Africa is not the angry, corrupt, violent country whose deeds fill the front pages of newspapers and the lead-in items on the seven-o’clock news. It is the South Africa often unseen, yet powered by the remarkable lives of ordinary people. It is the citizens who keep the country together through millions of acts of daily kindness.”
Now I may not be an entire country, but I can relate in so many ways. And the funny thing is that I was going to write this blog before reading Jonathan’s story. Because while everyone may think that The Tart leads of life of complete joviality and wild adventures, what happens behind closed doors is often best left there. No-one wants to hear about the shit and the drama, because everyone is dealing with their own shit and drama. Like that saying goes, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.” So let me enlighten you about the battle behind my closed door in Gay Street and how so many good people have made this year bearable…
To put it bluntly I f***ed up. It happens. And it will happen to almost everyone in their lifetime – if it hasn’t happened to you, I really hope it doesn’t. But if it does, you had better hope that your inner circle is a good one, like mine. In reality, I probably shouldn’t have gone to Zimbabwe on a whim. I know I will look back one day and say “Oh, but it was worth it” – which I do already – but right now the repercussions are severe. The trip cost a lot more than I bargained for and I came back to bounced debit orders all over the place, an angry landlady and a lot of scary messages on my phone. If you think no-one cares about your existence, just let a car payment bounce. And it doesn’t stop there either… the charges from each bounced debit order amount to a small fortune. Then they add interest and the whole thing gets out of control. And we all know what happens when you don’t pay your electricity. Plus the economy is in ruins so no-one has money for anything but the necessities, so freelance work becomes hard to come by and you can’t make up the deficit fast enough. Then you are so desperate to earn some cash that you end up doing said freelance work for peanuts. But at least you can buy a bag of cat food before your feline family eats you in your sleep (dogs are easy, they eat whatever you give them, including marmite toast).
But this is not supposed to be a whinge session about surviving on a few hundred Rand a month while trying to hold onto your car and the roof over your head because you decided to go travelling without saving first. It’s about how much worse things would be if it weren’t for the goodness of people. Bad decisions and drama aside, I must be the luckiest girl on the planet. I have the best friends and the best neighbours anyone could ask for.
Just an hour ago I finished tucking into a plate of chicken and salad brought to my door by Awesome Neighbours. Last night they brought me crumbed fish and veggies and the night before that it was steak and beer. Why? Because I am loaning them my car while theirs gets fixed (I can get lifts to work). But they don’t need to bring me dinner – after all they have put fuel in the car, fixed the tyre and goodness knows they spoil me all the time. They do it because they are good people and they know what it’s like to struggle. They constantly do kind things for me (like throwing over an extension cord when my electricity was cut off) and I love them for that. Quite frankly they can use my car for as long as they need to and they don’t even have to give me dinner every night (but I am not complaining). On the subject of neighbours, the other night I desperately needed to put fuel in my car so I could go to a free photo workshop that I had signed up for and do a shoot that was important to me. I went and knocked on two neighbours’ doors with my begging bowl and the next day I put in enough fuel to get me to the workshop and shoot. If it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t have been able to go.
Then there are friends who have loaned me money to tide me over while I try and get my finances back together. I am slowly paying it back, but it is taking longer than I thought it would. I know that they know that they will get it back, but they haven’t badgered me or sent in people to break my kneecaps and I thank them for their patience. Me Swifty paid for a car service and when it went bad (never buy a Groupon car service deal) she offered to pay for half when it wasn’t even her fault. She too waits patiently for my half of the deal. I almost cancelled my birthday lunch when I realised that I wouldn’t have the R60 to pay for my roast. The Monster was having none of that and paid for my lunch while the rest of my friends paid for my drinks and The Usual Crew made damn sure I partied into the wee hours. Slappy, who has her own cross to bear this year, constantly sponsors nights out and feeds me every Friday night. She claims she is investing in me as I will be very well-off and famous one day (I hope she’s right), but she could get fed up and just stop inviting me out, which she doesn’t. In fact we go out so often that we have earned the nickname Thelma & Louise. I just hope we don’t go over the edge of De Waal Drive in her little red bubble. Brad Pitt would be nice though…
But I digress. The Genie has bugger all money herself (not through bad decisions, rather through trying to build up her own business – which is starting to take off), but often treats me to supper and wine and buys treats for my pets. The Lesbians know I am struggling so gave me a Woolies voucher for my birthday which I used to buy food for me and my furry family, while Mom Friend gave me a bag of fancy face creams and make-up from “the sample cupboard” at her work. Now my worry wrinkles are disappearing and while I don’t have money, I can still look like I have class. There are countless things that everyone in my life has done for me, from giving me loo rolls to tea bags (God forbid I can’t wipe my bum or have a cup of tea) to buying me beer and tequila shots. They’ve given me lifts when I had no fuel and allowed me to shower at their house when I had no hot water. Without all these awesome people I probably wouldn’t have made it through the last nine months.
It’s not over yet, but it is getting better. Despite being told there are yet again no increases (four years on the same salary doesn’t help matters either) and that my job hangs in the balance, some doors of opportunity are opening and they could lead to great things. And when those great things happen, it’ll be my friends and neighbours turn to be spoilt. I cannot wait for that day to arrive. But until then, I hope they know just how very much I love them all and appreciate everything they have done and do for me.
It’s times like these that make me realise that there ARE good people out there and my faith in humanity is restored. Until the bank phones me again tomorrow…
Note: This is not intended to make anyone feel sorry for me. I will be the first to admit I did this to myself. Rather may it be a lesson to everyone in how things can go bad very quickly and how a little help goes a long way. Times are going to get tougher for everyone so we need to stick together and help eachother when we can. So get to know your neighbours and ask your friends how they are doing. You may be surprised at what you find.
