Monday, March 15, 2010

The Gautrain

Because I'm a closet geek I have created a Twitter account and I must say I'm having lots of fun with it - there are some very clever people there I would never have met without it.

On Saturday morning I joined a group of 200 tweeters on a tour of the Gautrain in Midrand. After getting almost hopelessly lost following Walter's directions (and my GPS, Bob, was sulking) I finally got there 20 minutes late. I'm extremely thankful I didn't just give up and go home because the surprise of the day was a trip on the Gautrain to Marlboro station.
 It's a very pretty train - and it's also very fast. We reached 160km/h on our trip to Marlboro station
 The station still needs some work but all the workers were quite excited to see a train full of people and waved at us cheerily as we pulled in.
The view from the train heading back to Midrand from Marlboro station. Who would wilfully sit in the traffic on the M1 with this as an alternative?


The big screen in the station showing all the tweets being sent live as the presentation was made

Although I'm not really a rah-rah socialising type I will admit to having enjoyed this and I'd urge everyone who can to take a trip on the train once it's officially launched.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Sunday morning

I am sitting in the boma in the garden on a perfect morning watching the bulbuls eating left over pawpaw, surrounded by the detritus of Scientist #2's birthday bash. There are bodies strewn around the lounge, the study, the TV room and his bedroom, and I know that when they eventually emerge there will be some sore heads to be dealt with. The dogs also look a little worse for wear - and guilty too - I know exactly who's responsible for the scattered pizza boxes, McDonald's packets and chewed up polystyrene cups.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

The 18 year-old turns 19 today

I can't believe it - the time has truly flown by. He shall hereinafter be referred to as Scientist #2 given his penchant for physics and other things beyond my understanding.
An old soul who I've been priveleged to know, hope you have an awesome day my boy

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Visualists

So I'm not really visual, I can't remember what you wore yesterday and if I lost a child in a shopping centre I would have trouble describing their clothes. I once did a test at the MTN Science Centre in Cape Town (well worth visiting if you have small children) and the computer thought long and hard before deciding to score me as audio-visual. Apparently this is very unusual.

When someone says red I see R-E-D, not the colour, and the most common response to my ideas in brainstorming sessions is "Where did THAT come from?" I can't tell the difference between all the blues and purples that have funky names but I can read a map properly. I get into a cold sweat when the scientist asks me "which blouse? this one (runs out of room, returning with what appears to be the same one) or this one?"

I'm not sure how it came about, it may have something to do with going to 13 different schools in 3 different countries, something I also blame for my (ahem) problem with numbers. Slippery little suckers in my opinion. The upside of this approach to education is that none of the systems had me in their grip long enough to find the relevant box or label for me. It also meant I had to find new ways to cope with new situations very quickly - something that's stood me in good stead ever since. Vive la difference.

Morning walks with my grandmother

All of a sudden it's March. Days are shorter and the evenings quite chilly now. I know this because I wake up 30 minutes before sunrise and I now have to set the alarm to get to the morning walk on time. The morning walk is a ritual I follow with my grandmother, I drive to her house and we set off together on our regular route, armed with water bottles and loads of attitude.
I should mention that she's not really my grandmother - but a slightly older friend who I've known for years and work with. As someone bossier than I am she has earned the right to be referred to with the respect most cultures show their elders. Also she has a good sense of humour so indulges my teasing with a great deal of patience. 
From time to time we talk about measuring the distance we walk, it seems like the right thing to do in this age of precise information and goals. We have yet to do it; somehow it's not about the distance or the speed, but about the conversation, the quiet, the blesbok and dassies at the local nature reserve, the birds, wild flowers and the sunrise. We always laugh a lot, we discuss work and our families, we greet other walkers and wave at total strangers who have become so accustomed to seeing us deep in conversation that they hoot and wave as they drive past. 
Once she brought a step counter and we set off with renewed energy - this time we'd know exactly how far we walk. Turned out the batteries were dead so it's still a mystery. 
Last week as we were walking down the last-but-one road, greeting the schnauzer that barks his good morning to us every day, I caught a glimpse of a very big bird taking off from one of the trees overhanging the road. I touched her arm and we both stopped to watch - it was a large eagle, wingspan as big as I am tall, furry legs, one-barred tail - silently lifting into the morning air. To see this, in suburbia, seems to be reason enough to walk. Up on the main road the traffic-weary people rushing to work early miss this, they are caught up in the incredible importance of getting "there" while we are here, now, contemplating the moment.