Today was my mother’s birthday. I had a bit of time before the party started, so I decided to drive around Pinelands, where she lives and where I grew up, and see how things have changed in the years since I lived there.
The suburb of Pinelands is somewhat of a joke in some circles in Cape Town – the kind of place that along with Fish Hoek people pass snotty remarks about, say they’d never consider living there, and look at you with sympathy when you confess you grew up there. I can understand why. It’s an insular suburb, with little entertainment to speak of, may still be dry (no bottle store, although these days some restaurants may even have liquor licenses), and has more than its fair share of old age homes. I am probably soon going to moving back to the city side, and definitely won’t consider living there. But it was a good place to grow up in. Lots of trees and open green space, parks, a canal running through it, UCT sports fields nearby (now housing), tennis courts, and quite safe.
Driving around it was a nostalgic experience. There are some changes – the walls are higher, less of those old houses with small or no walls, and more large fences, although thankfully not so many of those Jhb-style huge, electrified walls that really put an end to any semblance of community. New developments – Cannon Creek, a private school that I remember as open space, and a large ugly church that I remember as a private house that served as a meeting place for one of the many Christian sects that Pinelands seems to attract. Pinelands was one of the few places boasting what I think was a community of Plymouth Brethren (I knew them just as the Brethren, my knowledge of their believes going as deep as the fact that they could only marry other brethren, and that they all looked funny).
Passing old haunts gave me flashes of memories, people I hadn’t thought of for years. I remembered M, whose parents had fled Zimbabwe in 1980, had to get special permission not to study Afrikaans, and who came across as crassly racist, even in 1980’s South Africa. Or P, whose parents were divorced, but continued to live together, and who had very little charisma. Almost no-one else at school liked him, not even the teachers, but even then I was a bit contrary, and befriended him. After leaving school he became scarily Christian for about a month, real hellfire and damnation stuff, followed by a period of exploring the other side (don’t they just always go together). I remember him excitedly telling me the day he’d lost his virginity, using a whole 3-pack of condoms, and feeling upset that he’d beaten me to it.
I passed Clyde-Pinelands, the soccer club where I used to play, and remembered the day Pele, the first black player, arrived shortly after multiracial sport became legal, and a rant by B claiming that Clyde was a white club and that Pele should go back to where he came from. I also remember bumping someones car door when I got out, and having them shout at me for scratching the car. I couldn’t understand why they were making a big deal about a silly car door, but then my father drove an old wreck, and they had a new car. From then on they were the snooty rich family to me.
I remembered smoking marijuana for the first time under the bridge by the canal, and the terror when the police, obviously tipped off, arrived to search under the bridge. We’d moved by that stage to the car, and I remember a tussle as to whether to open the window, and let the fumes out, or to close the window, and not risk them smelling the fumes as they drove past. In the end we just sat put, with the windows closed, and they drove on past.
Hehe, well I can’t reminisce about Pinelands unfortunately. But I have noticed driving there that they have got these grand boulevards. Obviously some urban architect of bygone era thought they could transform part of the Cape Flats into a green forest haven. It’s still nice that the roads are wide there, and interesting to hear someone grew up there.
Pinelands…..
i grew up in Plumstead, who would do battle with Pinelands & Cape Town High Schools annually in the Triangular Athletics Meeting. Also, i played soccer for Tramways and can remember destroying Clyde-Pinelands in my second under 16 year, 16-0 at the Andrew Fenwick Park (home) and 9-1 (away) in Pinelands. Met some hectic rookers out that way, mainly button koppe. Havn’t been out that way in misty, misty moons……..
Ian,
I see you’re quite into reading. I’ve also read “An Unpopular War” by J.H.Thompson. Not bad. i dodged the draft, so could only really identify with the stories through hearsay (my two older brothers and evrybody else i knew all did ‘National Service’). i thought i’d share with you a few great great books i’ve read in the last year or so, a few i found really fantastic – you know the type, books you seriously have difficulty putting down and, when you do, you can’t wait for tomorrow to start, so as to continue. i’ve listed them in no particular order but would rate all of them very close to 10:
“Angela’s Ashes” by Frank McCourt – brilliant!!!
“Acid Alex” by Al Lovejoy – local and hot!!!
“When a crocodile eats the sun” and “Mukiwa” both by Peter Godwin – both scarily ‘familiar’!!!
“House of Stone” by Christina Lamb – also out of Zim (i have zero connection to Zim, by the way)
“The voluptuous delights of Peanut Butter and Jam” by Lauren Liebenberg – very un pc, cool & nostalgic, and, for something completely different, but very well researched and written, “Happy like Murderers” by Gordon Burn, an eerily accurate account and look into the lives of the infamous Fred & Rose West, the killers. Try them, they’re all very good – see what you think!!
Oh yes, seeing as you sound like you could be a football fan, an extremely in-depth look at the real history of South African football “Soccer through the Years 1862 – 2002”, the first official history of South African Soccer, by Peter Raath. This was available from Exclusive, amongst other book shops. It’s a hard cover with glossy pages and is more an academic work than anything. But real good!!! The author stays round the corner from me, so if you’d like a copy, i’m sure i could twist his arm for a half-price copy.
Cheers!!! & Happy Reading!!!
HOW THINGS CHANGE (except Insurance claim procedures) !!!
Perhaps the clearest indicator of marked international changes in weather has come from watching yesterday’s Barclay’s Premiership fixtures and comparing the current Indian Summer being enjoyed by the Brits and the dismally wintry spring now sweeping the Cape, the sun seriously struggling to make it’s eagerly awaited presence felt.
Brrrrr, we’re saying here in the Mother City, still finding oneself in pantoffels and socks on 29 September! Gee, I mean, we’re meant to be frolicking poolside by now. Well, at least the braver Capetonians. Or is it merely the age catching up? Crash Test Dummies once had quite a hit with a tune where the lyrics parodied “Someday I’ll wear, pyjamas in the daytime…..” Okay, so I’m certainly guilty of such practices, especially considering that my pyjamas and daywear are, by all accounts, more or less one and the same. Lambaste me not, you varmints, for most folk are, at some time in their lives, afflicted with this malady. I prefer to see this unhealthy practice as a hard-earned, mostly fought for, luxury of being semi-retired and, more honestly, just plain lazy!!! This is just one of the luxuries. Of course, on the other side of the coin, as it were, once semi-retired, most luxuries are, by necessity, non-existent!!!
But consider yesterday’s two Prem matches. At Pompey, Portsmouth and Spurs played in front of fans basking in sunshine, short-sleeved, some even shirtless (and, quite possibly, shitless too)! Then, at Wigan, Manchester City and the home side entertained the Wigan faithful and a large traveling band of City supporters, in the same unseasonable conditions. The commentators even remarked on this. Over the years, I can recall Blightians enjoying the occasional Indian Summer, but never while we, here in Cape Town, were experiencing such a late winter at the same time. Also, I recall a few weeks back Adam Gilchrist, who gives a morning report on one of the local radio stations, remarking on the fact that this year’s Wimbledon tournament had been, also unseasonably, blessed with peculiarly fine weather.
So us Capeys and the Blightians are swapping seasons, it would appear. Yet, if the quality of football on display yesterday in the UK in the two showcased matches is any sort of indicator of anything, it must be that the Brits can’t play too well in good weather. It was really scrappy stuff. The best spectacle of both matches was indeed the weather, not anything emanating from the pitches themselves. This also makes one wonder if the late sunshine in Portsmouth and Wigan makes the grass grow quicker, or thicker, or whatever. The bounces of the balls did appear a bit uneven. Particularly so for the ailing, once-great Tottenham Hotspur! Ramos might well find himself, in the not too distant future, being told to vamoos!!
Here, on the home front, I can honestly say, I cannot remember a wetter and longer winter than this dallying one, grittily refusing to make way for that British sunshine. My house is damper than ever. There seems to be a new variety of mould forming at strategic points around the home, growing gradually to a point of no return. You see, us lazy folk can’t undertake repairs or any form of home maintenance until our friend the Sun makes a definite, consistent appearance. It’s as simple as that. Having had numerous leaks this winter, I can tell you (for free), the Cape insurance industry feels the same way!!! Yes, I foolishly waited for my number of leaks to reach five before contacting, as I’ve had to for many years’ now, my insurance company (that’s the bank, of course). Almost immediately I received an sms confirming claim numbers and other such important numbers. A month after first making contact, I received a phone call to arrange an appointment for the assessor to come do his thing, for the following week. A week later, I was fortunate enough to receive another call, this time to really arrange the appointment!!! Ten days’ later the assessor pulled in…..for all of two minutes! While he was leaving I enquired when the roofing company might be coming. Probably in about two weeks, he replied. Fortunately, I now only have a week to wait for that to happen. Cool hey? Then they’ll come around, submit a report of the work to be done (also known as a quote) to the bank (I mean, insurance). From there, I’m pretty sure my roof will be ok by Christmas time. At least for another half-year!
So, most definitely, the world’s weather is certainly changing. But, for now, come on you Europeans, give us back our spring. And, if possible, please don’t forget the summer bit. I mean, this would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. The Brits would, no doubt, be able to view a better quality of football in their, more familiar, inclement weather; while us here in Cape Town will get to have our houses refurbished as well as get back to what’s really important: Good weather outside, so we know the house is gonna be ok for a few more months, while we view top quality ball inside our next-winter-proof homes, and those other, aforementioned braver Capetonians, are splashing in the sparkling swimming pools so often referred to by estate agents in their ads.
Thus, if it pleases the gods of weather changes, my request is for a simple return to the known, for both parties (and other everyday times too). I’d hate to see the condition of that unsightly living mould, if the special Sun isn’t returned to us soon (no, not Mourinho, Chelsea is top of the Premiership, besides…..i’m a United fan)!!! I suppose it’s not that simple though, hey?
Neil.
PS. I’ve already earned the disappearing hairline, so why not pyjamas in the daytime? Logical, perhaps…..
Why not come down to the Pinleands FC club on Saturday – folk are having a fun day, the football folk.
Bless ya – spence
hi to ALL my old soccer mates from the great days of 1966/71 where I played with such a great crowd of guys & we achieved so much as well.Please be in touch.
all the very best,
leon green