You know my name, but not my story

As I mentioned in my last post, I'm currently completing a Teacher's Training (in one year) so while stories have been bubbling in my mind, waiting to be written, my time and energy have been dedicated to assignments and studying. 

The topic of identity and belonging has always been close to my heart, because my life is so multi-faceted.

Yesterday in my subject Communication and Consultation I attended a session on intercultural communication. 

In a nutshell: look beyond someone's culture. 

It was probably the most enlightening session I've attended during this course because it spoke directly to me.

One of the slides from the session struck a chord with me. It focused on microaggressions and discrimination.

The example was: "Wat spreek je goed Nederlands." (Translated: You speak Dutch very well.)

At first glance, this sounds like a compliment, and one would naturally think the appropriate response is: "Thank you!" I have certainly said "thank you" when I heard this line.

However, our lecturer explained that although the intention may not be demeaning, the underlying subtext can be: "Voor iemand met jouw etnische achtergrond." (Translated: For someone with your ethnic background.)

Learning Dutch was not as easy as people assumed it would be - despite Afrikaans being an official language in South Africa - but I did my best and continue to learn. 

Over time, I started noticing that people asked more about my Dutch than about how I was doing. I had left my home and family behind, with my Dad having just revealed his cancer diagnosis, and moved to a new country. Instead of asking how I was coping with the move or settling in, I often felt reduced to only that aspect of myself.

Our lecturer also touched on diversity in the workplace. Do we see people from immigrant backgrounds in official positions? More often, we see them represented in the cleaning or catering sectors. I have heard many stories of people who were highly qualified professionals in their home countries, yet their qualifications are not recognized elsewhere.

The same applies to me, which is why I am following this training - so that I can be officially recognized for work I have already been doing for years. It has been one of the most difficult endeavours I have undertaken, but it has also pushed me out of my comfort zone and taught me so much about myself. 

I still need to map out all my thoughts, and I hope to continue writing about them as time permits.

Let's try this again

 I didn't keep up my promise to write since my last post eight months ago. Even as I typed the first sentence of this post, I backed up and rewrote it. 

A couple of conversations over the past few days have made the voice in my head louder: "Write. Just write. Don't overthink it. Just write."

I thought of my Television lecturer in my final years of Journalism - "Where there are people, there are stories." My three years in South Korea are proof of that. I'd find writing inspiration just from my walk from the school I worked at to my apartment.

What is compelling me to write now - after quite a hiatus - is not stories of people, but stories that have been with me over the past few years. Stories that have lived in my head, but most importantly in my heart.

As I wrote in my last post, I have written tidbits on my social media pages. However, ironically, I wrote that because I have been offline from all social media since September last year. The reason is two-fold. The first is because I was starting to realise that I was playing the comparison game. Comparing people online to myself... which is, even when I read that, is simply ridiculous.

I compared their skin, hair, eyebrows, teeth, and body to my own. 

Please don't come at me because I said these words to my doctor last year in August: "I'm an educated woman and I know that they're filters, but I still find myself comparing my own body to theirs." Sometimes it wasn't even about the filters, but about the confidence that they had to vlog and express their opinion.

I used to write like crazy 20-odd years ago. I look back at some articles I'd written, and frankly, I don't know where that tenacity disappeared to. I got a lot into my own head, sharing my inner thoughts with only my inner circle. My confidence waned a bit, and I wished I were like the "influencers" who are able to tell stories, something that I always thought was a passion.

The second reason I decided to take a break from social media is because I embarked on something quite big. I am studying again. Not only am I doing a 2-year teaching degree in Dutch, I'm doing it in one year. That's a story for another day.

...but for now, I just had to write something. Whether anyone reads it or not is besides the point, but the stories living in my mind need to be told.

Thanks for being here! ;)

Happy 20th Birthday to my blog

I can't believe that my last post was in 2022. I guess...life happens?

I've been sharing my writing on social platforms, but if I am honest, here's what led me back to this little corner.

I got a DM from one of my special former students I taught in Cape Town. It was in response to some writing I shared on there.

He wrote: "I've checked ur blog while ago...don't u think it's time to write there again?!"

After I responded that I think he's right, he answered:

"I'm gonna check it from time to time ;)" 

So there. I'm now held accountable. And I don't mind.

I started this blog in 2005. The word "blog" wasn't a buzz word at all back then. 

I remember turning to my blog as a place of refuge and solace when I lived in South Korea. I remember walking home from the school I worked at. I couldn't wait to get home to write on my blog. 

Words have always been my therapy. 

So - this year, as my blog turns 20 years old (!!!) this year, let's see how this goes.

Celebrate another milestone with me!

Dear Family & Friends, 

Celebrate another milestone with me! ✨

It was the first time going out this weekend without my crutches. 🙌🏼 

I’m still a bit wobbly, move slowly and lean on my hubby a lot. But I did it! 🤩

…thinking back to lying in the hospital bed. I used to wonder when/how/if I’d walk again. Getting daily injections for thrombosis prevention, because I needed to lay on the sofa - keeping my leg elevated. My leg muscles were so weak I could barely raise them.

My ankle still swells up a lot. My doctor assured me that it’s normal. He also said that it could take up to a year before I feel like myself again.

I’m in awe of our bodies and its capabilities. And beyond grateful for the love, support & encouragement from far & wide. 

A big hug & much love to you all for the week ahead. 🤗❤️😘

Our baby, Benjamin

Benjamin wasn’t sick or old. This was just the most tragic way that he was meant to leave this world. The void is real and our hearts feel like it’s been squashed.

Darmesh & Tiffany were the best parents to this fur baby. My Dad adored this little guy. When I’d visit East London, Dad would make sure Benjamin came to greet me good morning in my room.

My Mum surprised us all. She loved dogs, but from a distance. She didn’t want them to jump on her - until she met this baby. In recent months when she’d babysit him, she’d tell him that she was going to mandir (temple) and that she’d be back soon. It’s like he understood and didn’t kick up a fuss when she walked out the door. 

I can still hear my Dad’s voice saying, “My baby booy”.

Go well, my baby Benjamin. You’re with Daddy now.  🐶💔🪔🙏🏼🕉🐾🌈

Goodbye our beloved Benjamin

Our hearts are completely shattered. 💔

Our beloved Benjamin left us and is now with our Dad in heaven.

Benjamin was run over by a speeding car yesterday. He suffered internal injuries - broken ribs, fractured spine, injured lung. 

Our little Pug was a fighter and I was sure he was going to pull through. 

The fact that he was still alive - after the woman thought she rode over a speed bump - was a miracle itself. 

This afternoon, I got the dreaded call that his condition was worsening by the hour. He was in pain. And they had to make the difficult decision - every fur parent’s worst nightmare.

My Mum was hysterical and kept saying, “He’s gone to Daddy.”

My brother was…actually, I have no words.

I am numb.

Aum Shanti Shanti Shanti 🕉🪔🙏🏼💔🐾

Shubh Diwali 2022

Shubh Diwali to my family & friends!

May your day be bright, bold, beautiful & blessed. 🪔🙏🏼✨🤗❤️

Although I wish I was with my Mum now, I’m making the best of my current situation. Lighting these diyas and setting out mithai next to my Dad’s photo brought me so much joy.

I truly love and appreciate the significance of Diwali - more so now as an adult. 

Light over darkness.

Good over evil. 

New beginnings.

Today also marks 3 months since my accident. It’s been a rollercoaster. My recovery is steady and I’m constantly reminded of how amazing our bodies heal.

A massive (virtual) warm hug to you all! 🤗❤️