... and the fine line in between.
Actually, what I meant to post as a heading today was:
"The use of English and other languages, and the astuteness to understand that what this blogger (moi) posts about, was originally gardening (in South Africa); currently about life in East Africa, often about birding, nature and domestic cats, and - above all - always non-discriminatory subjects".
But...
As you can see, it's too long for the title box!
When I started my blog way back in 2008, I posted regularly about my garden and the way we, as a family and with our friends, got great pleasure from it. I moved into our Marquard house in July 2000. In October year, I joined Grant in West Africa where we lived on a remote goldmine site in North-western Guinea. However, I moved back to SA in March 2001 to nurse my mum who passed away at the beginning of 2002.
At the end of that year, with the encouragement of a dear friend, Betty, who has a beautiful garden, and with the help of John Tsie , my Sotho gardener, we tackled our overgrown, unsightly plot of ground adjacent to our home property.
So from this...
...to this.
WIP.
We had to do everything by hand, as, even though I could have hired a machine to clean the area, the garden was walled
Ultimately to this...
...and this...
...and this...
Serenity is...
The three interlinked garden ponds provided giant water bowls for the dogs!
My primarily indigenous garden attracts an abundance of wildlife
Southern-masked Weaver
Pineapple flower
Our resident Free State hedgehog
Our dogs enjoying the garden
As did Shadow during his eight-month stopover in South Africa!
Plumbago is one of the most rewarding garden shrubs
Our house garden: an extension of the garden "next door"
Our garden patio to the rear of the house
In January 2011 Grant and I moved (as expats) to Kenya. We lived on a remote camp in a beautiful valley within the Great Rift Valley.
What did I do there?
I changed the exotic garden into a primarily indigenous garden. My Kenyan gardener, Stanley and I eradicated anything and everything that was high-maintenance or that attracted unwanted insects and disease and replaced it with natural African flora.
Stanley and I walked into the bush and dug out plants with which we -re-created our Kenyan garden
Our Kenyan house was surrounded on three sides by thick African bush
Ginger came with the house and we brought Shadow, who originally hailed from the Sudan, from South Africa to Kenya
Tacazze Sunbird in my Kenyan garden
The Beautiful Sunbird delights us with it's song
Since moving to Tanzania in January 2012, I've created an enclosed shamba wapaka/ cats' garden behind our house. Our youngest cat, Ambrose, often posts about the fun they have in this safe haven.
When I started creating my garden in South Africa, I was very frustrated because, although John Tsia was willing and hardworking, he and I might as well have come from different planets. I just couldn't communicate with him in Sesotho (South Sotho) and he couldn't understand Afrikaans or English. My son suggested I learn to speak his language which is what I did. I enrolled in adult Sesotho classes and after year of weekly lessons and a written exam, John and I now converse on many levels!
When Grant and I lived in the Sudan, (where I created an indoor garden on the stairwell!) I felt most alienated when shopping at the street markets. There was absolutely no English spoken, and because I couldn't even begin to understand Arabic, I struggled against exploitation. Grant arranged for me to study workable/local Arabic with a tutor. After this, life in North Africa took on a whole new meaning.
Arriving in Kenya, there was no problem of not understanding or being understood. The universal language is English. It was only obvious on the few occasions when I spoke to very old Kenyans living in the rural areas, that it would be good to speak Swahili.
Enter Tanzania year later, and it hit me with a force that I couldn't understand or speak to the people working in the Guest House. Going shopping at the market and trying to communicate with the vendors was a nightmare. Fortunately while in Kenya I'd bought a comprehensive Swahili-English/English-Swahili dictionary which I use regularly.
My well-worn, much-thumbed Swahili-English dictionary
Another blessing is that Regina, my house-lady, speaks perfect English and helps me with spelling, pronunciation and generally sets me right when I struggle for a word. William, the company driver, who takes me to Shinyanga when I shop for the Guest House, has an excellent command of the English language. He actually understands concepts like suspicion/depression/concentration and much more, which he then translates for me.
I feel when you live in a country where the majority of the people speak their local language, it pays to learn as much of it as possible. It's also a sign of respect and once you get the hang of it, you garner respect in return. On the other hand, I can make mistakes in speaking and when writing a foreign language, but I am never discriminatory. When I post about life in East Africa, and the
occasion calls for it, I use the Swahili expression in italics with the
English translation immediately after it. As a writer, journalist and regular blogger, I make sure that, not only is my spelling correct, the grammar, syntax and phraseology is socially acceptable and easy-to-read but that it's totally non-ist (non-ageist, non-sexist, non-racist).
Regarding my blog and non-commenting readers: ironically I only have two South African followers: one is a man from Port Elizabeth on the East Cape Coast and the other is my brother, Phillip. Both these men have their own blogs and comment on mine. If they had issues with words or subjects that I may have posted about (not that they ever have) I'm sure they'd mention it politely in my comment section. All my other followers are beautiful people from Europe, the UK, the USA, Canada, the Far East and Australia who gladden my heart with their regular comments.
For those readers who don't comment, and issues with my blog, my apologies. But remember this: in the words of a wise old woman I once knew: "If you take offense, you may as well take the gate as well!" HA-HA
The bottom line is I love blogging; I love blogging and I love that other bloggers read and comment on my blog. I, in turn, enjoy blog-hopping and adding my comments on fellow-bloggers post. It's politically correct, it's right and it's the polite thing to do.
Long may the blogger live !