My mom got married this weekend and her cousin from Joburg brought her 16 and 18 year-old children along. Wow what an experience they must have had...because to start off with, Sarah (the emo daughter) didn't know what she was visiting. The conversation went something like this:
The mom: We're going to the wedding in Dundee?
Daughter: What's Dundee?
The mom: It's a town in Natal
Daughter: What's a town? Do you mean like Downtown Joburg?
The mom: Um, no, as in a small city....a village?
And she certainly got to experience the village at its best: after all the rain, the smell of cow dung was especially pungent around the lodge where they were staying (in silos!!)
And what's even worse...the showers had taps that you actually turn (as opposed to the lever) and she didn't know how to work them!
Needless to say, son and daughter convinced their mother to forgo the accomodation booking the next night and drive all the way back to Joburg after the wedding!
So I now very lucky to grow up in a small town and even though we may have complained about the lack of shops, movies or places to go out, I am so grateful that it was my childhood.
For us, going out for supper was a treat - birthdays and after a good end-of-term report were our tickets to the Buffalo Steak house (where Mom would order sole and chocolate mousse and the rest of us ribs with enough yummy sauce to coat our faces).
And this makes me think about where and how I want to raise my children one day....because I certainly want them to be able to turn on a tap and have rib sauce on their faces!
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