Goodbye South Africa

I write this post objectively, and would like to assure my many friends and few relations remaining in South Africa that I mean no offense.

It has been more than a month since I wrote my previous post, but a month in which my life has completely changed – for the better. At last I am free from the servitude and nepotism of South Africa, and am able to look at the country and its people with a clear and fresh mind. I have now spent a month in a real First World country, and can say quite categorically, and this is for all South Africans who think otherwise, that South Africa is a true Third World country – nothing better.

In many ways I rue the decision that I made 42 years ago to relocate to southern Africa, but had I not made that decision, I would not have the wonderful family and friends that I have today. Everyone makes mistakes, and I am the first to admit that I have made many, but the decisions we make, whether good or bad, shape our future life. My 42 years in Africa have been colorful, enlightening and edifying, and I left the country last month wiser and more erudite than I could possibly have been had I remained in the United Kingdom all those years ago. During my time in Rhodesia I spent more than 130 nights “treading the boards”, and many more in rehearsal, often in the company of professional and internationally known actors and actresses. I have met and shaken hands with politicians from either side of the aisle, including the recently passed Nelson Mandela and Ian Smith. Above all I have had the pleasure of living in a beautiful part of the world, have come face to face with Nature, and can truthfully boast, in the words of Karen Blixen, that “I had a farm in Africa”.

When my wife, Liz, came out to South Africa in 2002, one of the first things that I told her was to watch out for the direction that education and healthcare were going. These were the first visible signs of the impending rot in what had become Zimbabwe, and from which I had fled with my family in 1981. We all know what has become of that country. South Africa is fast going the same way. The deterioration in education and healthcare started several years ago, and were instrumental in our decision to relocate. Today South Africa is a cradle of mismanagement, nepotism and neo-apartheid. If you happen to have a white skin, forget about applying for a job. There are few ways that you will guarantee a future - by starting your own business, by ‘knowing someone’ or by joining the ANC.

I could write a whole new blog post on South African banks. I have traveled to every continent, and can safely and categorically state that, in my opinion, South African banks are probably the worst on the entire planet. I have yet to come across another country where one has to pay a fee for depositing cash into one’s bank account. Not only that, there is a fee for every single transaction. I know for a fact that, for an individual such as myself, a checking account in the USA and the UK will actually pay you interest on a monthly basis when you have a credit balance. The powers that be in banks such as I am speaking of (if there are exceptions I am not aware of them) will try to justify these charges with a lot of balderdash and twaddle – probably because they themselves have been brainwashed and programed to do so. South African banks suck!

I will say no more, other than “Goodbye Africa!”. Now that I have experienced just a few short weeks in a First World country for the first time in many years, I have absolutely no desire at all to return to any part of that continent. I will spend my remaining days (may there be many of them) enjoying clean streets and highways, unbiased radio and television stations, the latest technology, a wide variety of culture, efficient government departments (it is still quicker in South Africa to send a letter with a runner and cleft stick than to rely on the post office) and a country free from the mismanagement and corruption that is so prevalent in South Africa, its businesses and its government. Goodbye

Sold the Farm - really did this time

Unlike my post of 11/27/2011, which was written immediately before the South African banks let us down on the first of several occasions, we really have sold the farm this time. Papers are signed and the money's in the bank - not nearly as much as we would have liked, but enough to get significantly more personal possessions across the Pond. Liz will be reunited not just with myself, but with her collection of shoes, clothes, beads and beading, lighthouses and witches. I've been following the New Hampshire weather during their winter - I don't think I've seen the temperature rise above freezing for at least 2 months. I guess that if I miss Africa at all, which is unlikely, it will be at this time of the year. Still - I did spend 8 years living (off and on when not at sea) in the far North of Scotland, so I have been used to those conditions in the past, albeit many years ago. I guess I'll get used to it - I'll have to, won't I?

NH wild turkeys taken 30 minutes ago

What will I not miss about Africa in general, and South Africa in particular? Well, I never wanted to live in SA in the first place anyway, but was forced here by circumstances. Since democratization I have witnessed a country where reverse apartheid is blatantly being practiced - I'm not saying that BEE is a bad thing - far from it, but the way it has worked out in most cases has exposed corruption, nepotism and bad management at their worst. The poor in South Africa are still poor, whereas the well-off have lined their pockets and those of their cronies at the expense of the underprivileged. You only have to look around you at present. As many as 4 years ago the Mail & Guardian exposed the scandal behind the multi-million rand upgrades on Jacob Zuma's Nkandla home - upgrades carried out at the taxpayers' expense (for those who have never heard of him, Zuma is South Africa's multi-wife president). Today, 4 years later, the scandal lives on. 

I will miss none of the above. What I will miss is the bush and the wildlife. The fragrance after that first rain shower after a period of drought. The ability to take a drive of less than an hour and be among a 30-strong herd of elephant, the bush buck that live on my farm, the monkeys that scatter when I drive to Bathurst, the sound of the jackals as they hunt at night, the call of the frogs from our small dam after the year's first rains, and the call of the fiery-necked nightjar - these I will never forget.

Yesterday I took my monthly drive into Grahamstown. The main street showed up mismanagement at its worst. Imagine taking a trash bin - well, probably taking dozens of trash bins - and emptying them along the sidewalk and gutters. The amount of trash just lying there was appalling. The thing is, the ANC have individuals all over the country in local government, mayors and councilors, who have no idea how to run a craft booth let alone a municipality. And they are all riding around in new Mercedes and BMWs. I'm not jealous - just sorry for the many individuals who cannot escape from the situation. Which makes me very glad of the decision I made when I first arrived in Africa - never to give up my British passport.

There is so much to get done during the next 58 or so days. Police Clearance Certificate, hand in Beretta, international driving permit, stop Eskom, stop Telkom, stop DStv, stop Post Box, change of address with various agencies, sell furniture, stop car insurance ... the list goes on. My clients will find my new telephone number on my main website, and I will still be available for work from South Africa. Just remember though, that if you call me the difference is 6 hours in SA winter and 7 in summer.

Musings before relocation

Many of my regular readers will have come to realize that I have a deep interest in the Quantum Theory – indeed the greater part of my present beliefs and thoughts regarding consciousness, paranormal phenomena, ESP, and other closely related subjects, are based on such related subjects as Quantum Entanglement. My interest was recently given a boost when researching a series of articles I had been commissioned to write. These included such subjects as Positive Thinking, Goal Setting  and Law of Attraction. It was only recently that I came across the Science of Noetics, the study of how thought can influence happenings.

Quantum Mechanics has many skeptics – but then I am very skeptical about religion, and will never accept the dogma associated with it. That does not mean to say that I am not spiritual, for I am. But my beliefs are fashioned by science and in particular by the Quantum Theory. Yes, I believe in prayer, but in the sense that consciousness and positive thinking can and does influence events. All of those leadership courses, goal setting, team-building and so on are merely, in my mind, another manifestation or expansion of the theory.

I chat on Skype with Liz most evenings, except when she is working the morning shift at the other side of the Pond. I am amazed by the number of times that we have witnessed a quantum event. Actually, if truth be told, I used to be amazed but no longer am, for it has become common place for each of us to make the exact same remark and hit the send button simultaneously. So much so that when it happens these days, we immediately each type in ‘qqqqqqqq’ to signify to each other a quantum event. If I were to go back through the history of my messages, I could quote to you some of the instances, but you must just take my word for it.

My maternal grandfather was an engineer, and in 1912 was in charge of the starboard engine room of HMS Thunderer, where he spent 18 months fitting out machinery. He later made a name for himself during WWII as the designer of the 12,000 lb blockbuster bomb, which earned him the title Blockbuster Brooks and an MBE from King George VI to boot. I did not learn about his connection with the Royal Navy until a couple of years ago, but now wonder whether there was some sort of influence from the other side that caused me to commission. I specialized as an Air Warfare Instructor flying off carriers in the Buccaneer strike aircraft. It was only after his passing that I inherited his scrap book, which is full of press cuttings about the brave exploits of RNAS and RFC aviators during WWI. Could this have been yet another quantum event, or was it just a coincidence? If any of my readers are interested I have published jpegs of some of those clippings in a previous post to this.

If all goes according to plan this will be one of my last posts from African soil. I have resided in southern Africa for 41 years, seen the transition and subsequent demise of Zimbabwe under the autocrat Mugabe, witnessed the first signs of failure in South Africa, where education, health care and local government, to name a few, are falling foul of mismanagement, corruption and reverse apartheid. I will shortly be joining my family in cooler climes, where the 32 kbs/sec download speed I am paying through the teeth for will be replaced by one of 12 mbs/sec., where guinea fowl are replaced by wild turkeys, and where the wild animals are bears, elk, whitetail deer and moose. It will be a totally new environment for my writing, and one that I can’t wait to tackle.

The Silly Season again

It's the Silly Season again. For six weeks during the school holidays Port Alfred will try to emanate Myrtle Beach. Of course the small coastal town in South Africa's Eastern Cape will never, never be anything to rival South Carolina's Grand Strand, but in terms of population per square mile it must surely do so. This is the time of year, from early December to mid January, when the town is full of vehicles and their passengers from all places north. They have traveled here from Gauteng, the Free State and Natal and even from such far away places as Mpumalanga and Zimbabwe. My local Spar has filled its aisles with extra goodies to cope with the increased demand from out-of-towners. In a few days' time you will not be able to find dog food or dish washing powder on its shelves - not until they start delivering goods again in early January. It's the same every year, but most locals such as me have taken precautions against the dearth of goods that always occurs about now by stocking up beforehand.

This was to be my last Christmas in Africa - soon I will be sailing my boat to colder climes, but at least will eventually be reunited with my family. Speaking of which - to us old-timers seeing out the autumn of our years, the Internet has brought families much closer together. Yesterday, on separate occasions, I got to video-chat with Liz, my wife, with my daughter Julie and her three kids Grace, Owen and Luke, all in Pennsylvania,, and with my sister Suzane along with her three kids Nick, Anna and Lisa and her numerous grandchildren in the UK, something that could never have happened 40 years ago when I first came out to southern Africa. The only problem is that the Internet speed here on the farm is so appallingly slow. I am going to be so spoiled by the download speeds I experience in other countries in the near future.

We all make mistakes - I know that I have made many, but many of our mistakes eventually turn out to have been for the best. For example I sometimes wonder whether it was a mistake buying this farm, but where else in the world can you find such a small corner of paradise, where else can you sit outside after breakfast and have two lesser striped swallows chatting to each other and to their newly fledged offspring perched nonchalantly less than two meters away. This year a sunbird built a nest on the wire perch that the swallows use - not sure which species as the bird that made and now occupies it (see above) is a very dull color and obviously a female. The farm abounds with birds and in clement weather is a continual orchestral interlude during the daytime. At this time of year, when there is water in the farm's two dams, the orchestra's players change at nightfall, the birds being replaced by frogs that continually call to each other during the starlit hours.

Talking of starlit hours - I have lived in many homes and traveled the world over, from Hong Kong to Wellington, through Europe and the Mediterranean and as far west as the Great North Woods. Only here, in Martindale, have I regularly been able to see this corner of our galaxy in such detail. This small community is a paradise for star gazing, even through the naked eye. By the time that I take my leave I will have spent eight happy years here, but just cannot spend any more time trying to sell the place. When deciding between family and property, family has to be the winner. If I have to start from scratch all over again, so be it. At least I have the satisfaction of knowing that I have a small but sufficient passive income to fall back on during my pending long journey.

A few weeks ago I was thinking that this would be a fairly lonely Christmas, my being all by myself in Martindale. Actually, being a free thinker, I don't really celebrate Christmas - rather Yule. But that's another story. However that expected solitude was not to be. My good friend Alberto from Bologna in Italy, together with his protegé Jimmy, has been my house guest all week. It has been refreshing to have someone to talk with, and we have touched a wide variety of subjects. I know that I talk to Katie (my white shepherd) much of the time - but understandably that is a rather one-sided conversation, despite her being extremely intelligent and having a very sensitive nose. Katie will not be accompanying me on my pending voyage. My good friend and neighbor Wendell has offered to give her a good home - and I know he will. I just have to find a home now for my two inseparable cats. Any offers of a home to two neutered male cats that have been together for 8 years?

Is SEO dead? – A new look at Content writing.

Last night I had a dream – in it I was working for an IT company as a Content Writer, and was severely admonished for leaving work before the CEO, who just happened to be a self-made and self-proclaimed SEO expert. After the dream, and when I arose from my comfortable bed, I got to thinking – most so-called SEO experts probably have their own fixed idea of what a content writer is, namely a writer (often an Intern) with limited experience, but one who can turn out a pretty turn of phrase in exactly the way the SEO wants it. In addition it is interspersed with the right percentage of keywords and so on. I’m sure that is the way that they look at me.

However, what they do not know is that in my case I wrote my first program (remember Fortran?) when most of these upstarts were still in diapers – and in some cases before they were even a twinkling thought in their parents’ heads. Even before attending that long-ago Computer Studies course at the North London Polytechnic, I was flying around the sky with some of the then most sophisticated and highly secret analogue computer equipment available. Before the Internet caught on and during a brief sojourn to the Middle East, I designed a database for all air traffic passing through the region. A few years later was in charge of three computer networks comprising no less than 70 or 80 PCs, and I remember the excitement when the networks first went ‘live’ on the Internet. I am not bragging, but merely trying to put everything into perspective.

What I am trying to get across is that Content Writers are not necessarily interns straight out of college. Many of us are widely traveled and have had a great deal of experience of worldly affairs. I personally have traveled through or to every continent, have had well in excess of 6,000 articles published on the Internet, and have six of my own websites. Of course SEO is not yet dead – just dying maybe. It is no secret that, as search engines introduce new algorithms they prefer more and more good content that is well written, free of spelling and grammatical errors, valid and to the point.

I am enjoying my last few months in South Africa before relocating to the colder climes of New England. South African SEOs in particular should start examining the content they have used in their websites in the past. There is nothing worse than coming across a website in which the content is badly written. South Africa, with its eleven official languages, is particularly prone to this. In many cases the content is exacerbated where the webmaster or SEO, wishing to save a few dollars, has outsourced content to countries such as India, Pakistan, the Philippines and China. Get your act together guys – let’s start seeing some high-quality content – you’ll find it pays in the long run.

Recollections

I was driving from the farm into Port Alfred this morning, reminiscing, when I decided on the subject of this blog - recollections of some of the things I have achieved during my life, and of some of the mistakes I have made. I have reached that age where a person starts wondering how many more birthdays they are going to enjoy - if one can enjoy birthdays in this day and age. I am still told from time to time that I do not look my age, so maybe there's hope for me yet. So what can I brag about ? What can I tell my grandchildren? And what can I not  tell them?

I suppose that one achievement I can chalk up on the board would be my close to 300 each carrier catapult shots and deck landings. I spent 8 years flying off aircraft carriers, and during this time qualified as a 'top gun'. My flying career was not without incident, my having survived a mid-air collision between two Hawker Hunter jet fighters as well as a crash landing after an engine failure at 24,000 ft. The latter hit the headlines of the national press.

The one I walked away from

I had become very apprehensive with the complacency of the British people during my days as a naval aviator, and on their completion decided to 'emigrate' to Africa - to Rhodesia to be precise. The Fleet Air Arm and its carriers were being juggled about like  yo-yos by various politicians in those days. I had become a particular admirer of Enoch Powell, a Conservative politician whose predictions of Britain's future have proved so true. I also admired Ian Smith, the Rhodesian prime minister, whom I was to meet several times during my nine years in the country. It was in Rhodesia that I became heavily involved in the theater, serving on the Executive Committee of Salisbury Repertory Players and treading the boards in more than a dozen plays under the direction of their resident professional director.

The writer as Dronio in You must be Joking (Four plays for Coarse Actors)

After that joker Mugabe came into power and Rhodesia became Zimbabwe, I left the country with my new family for Britain, where I had been appointed Senior Air Traffic Controller at Biggin Hill Airport.  I slotted into the job very well, and was soon deputizing for the Airport Manager as well as running Air Traffic Control. Unfortunately the narrow minded politics of Britain's Civil Aviation Authority refused to recognize my Rhodesian ATC qualifications, in spite of my obvious experience, which is what brought me and my family to South Africa. I remained in ATC for a number of years before becoming involved in computers, and it was during this time that I was honored to have shaken hands with Nelson Mandela - I consider this, if not an achievement, at least something I can brag about.

In retrospect my first marriage was my first big mistake, although even from mistakes can come good. In this case in the shape of my daughter Julie and later my three grandchildren. They are very special to me and I just cannot wait to get to New Hampshire again to see them - and without doubt to spoil them. My first visit to sub-Saharan Africa had been to Mombasa whilst embarked on HMS Eagle. I had spent a week staying on a farm at Nyali Beach, the guest of Andy Pape and his two teenage daughters. This was to influence my original decision to move to Africa, and eventually to another achievement - to own a farm in Africa.

The main farmhouse and Katie

Martindale Farm is an 18 acre smallholding about 10 miles from Bathurst in South Africa's Eastern Cape. The village is home to South Africa's oldest pub, the Pig & Whistle. We bought the farm in 2005, and loved it and cherished it, but the time came to move on. I met Liz, my present wife, on the Internet, and we've been together for 15 years - 15 years without a single argument or fight.We are true soul mates. Liz has returned to America in 2012 and I followed her 2 years later. I am now able to coin the phrase "I had a farm in Africa at the foot of the Kaprivier Hills".

Today I am relocated in New England and the owner of several websites, and spend much of my time writing content for the Internet. My most successful personal sites are  info-nc and info-nh . My latest achievement is a website for a veterinary clinic in the Northeast Kingdom. I never thought of myself as a writer ten years ago, but since 2006 I have had more than 6,500 articles published on websites - this I do consider as an achievement. What's more the Internet has made it possible for me to continue writing wherever I am located.

Reflections

It has been quite chilly of late, especially early in the morning, which is to be expected in May in South Africa, since the Sun is already 6 weeks into the Northern hemisphere. Today is quite unusual - 87°F (that's 30°C) here in Martindale. The farm is looking good after the 2 inches of rain we had during a thunderstorm about a week ago. The lawn is green but has just about gotten into its winter hibernation program. This is the time of year when molehills start appearing, but so far there are just scattered examples - warnings of things to come. 

The farm is still for sale (and will remain so until sold). One prospect who looked over the place 3 weeks ago took 2 weeks to let me know it was too far from Grahamstown and lacking in security. How little they know, this must be one of the most secure farms in the area - not one incursion in the six years we've been here, other than the locals collecting firewood, which I have no objection to. I have enough wood here to build a couple of houses and to keep the stove hot for several years. A German couple turned up with Philip, an old friend, on Saturday to look over the place. They are interested but have to sell their property in Deutschland. They did enjoy the Guavas though, and carried of a few handfuls. I'm glad someone likes them - I personally cant stand them, and I have 14 guava trees (4 pink and 10 white) on the property, as well as nartjes. A local farmer phoned a few minutes ago and has taken the details of the farm. He seems fairly interested so will join the list of hopefuls.

 Headman, who is the local preacher and "odd job man" had his last remaining teeth removed yesterday - presumably at the government hospital in Grahamstown. He was told, and I find this odd, to expect his false teeth to be ready for a fitting in December - 7 months? I guess that's yet another sign of the way things are going in this country. I think everyone (except for HRH Robert Mugabe) knows how Zimbabwe became a god forsaken country. It seems as if South Africa is going the same way - a little more slowly perhaps, but the signs are all there. Even today there was an extensive item on CNN investigating the gradual failure of democracy in the country.

 Liz  has now been back in the US of A for 2 weeks - how time flies, and yet the days are very long when she's not here. We chat either on the phone (MagicJack) or Skype every afternoon or evening for a good 30 minutes or so. She looks very happy, and clearly enjoys being with Dena and the kids. Come on someone - buy this little corner of Paradise so that I can fly myself and Katie across the Pond to be with her. What I need is some keen philanthropist who wants to set up a small home industry school, or some other project, for the local Martindale community. At present they just exist, and there will be few opportunities for the 14 kids who attend the farm school in the future, unless someone steps in. This place would make an ideal base for such a project. Indeed, one of my prospective purchasers (who was turned down by the banks) had such a project in mind, had the sale gone through.

South Africa - don't get ripped off!

Way back in November of 2011 I published a blog post entitiled "The two G’s – Gullible and Greedy", and a couple of days ago I had to do some research that backs up just how greedy many South Africans are. I still have an old cell phone - a Nokia 6020 - which has served me well over the years. I'll wait until I get to the States before upgrading, for reasons that will become obvious by the end of this post.  About a week ago I noticed that I was having to charge the battery on my phone every day. Obviously, I thought, the battery was packing up and I would need to replace it. So I started doing some research and discovered the same battery priced at £3-68 in the UK - that's about R46 at today's exchange rate.

I started looking for the same battery here in South Africa - the first website I went to ( pricecheck.co.za ) listed the battery at R421 - wow that's a 900% increase. Two other websites I checked were R262 ( bluestream.co.za ) and R283 (phoneextreme.co.za ) only 570% increase on the UK price. Now when you consider that all of the batteries, whether here or in the UK, are manufactured in China, how on Earth can those SA prices be warranted? There should be government legislation preventing such blatant profiteering.

As it happened I didn't need to purchase a replacement battery. Liz suggested switching off the phone and removing the battery, which I did. I placed it back in the phone and recharged it. Guess what! The phone has remained fully charged for 4 days, and shows none of those original symptoms. Thanks Liz - gonna miss you after Tuesday.