A day in the life of a South African homecomer
April 29th, 2011It’s 7:43am and my phone rings. I don’t need to look at the phone to know it’s my wife, and I know it’s not going to be a good call. She left early to stand in line at the Department of Home Affairs to apply for permanent residency as an American married to a South African citizen. It is our second attempt to get the paperwork accepted.
She is in tears. They’re not accepting a copy of her police clearance, despite a letter from the South African Consulate in Los Angeles explicitly stating that they have seen the original and they can verify its contents. The guy who is going through her documentation is not being helpful. He is impatient and downright rude to her.
I try to think of a solution. Will they start the paperwork and we can give them the original police clearance later on? I hear muffled objections in the background as my wife asks him.
“No,” she manages to say through deep, frustrated breaths. I want to reach through the phone and punch the guy in the face. I am ashamed to send my wife into this bottomless pit of stale bureaucracy. I tell her to come home – we’ll figure it out. We’ll get the original copy from the FBI in Washington, even though that will take at least 3 months.
At 8:30 I open the gate for our domestic worker. Her name is Aretha, and she is a real-life angel. She lives in Gugulethu and she has four kids. She works full time, she volunteers at her church, and she helps out at an orphanage nearby. Then, in her spare time, she chaperones every one of her daughter’s school events, and she runs a business selling Tupperware. Every week she walks into our house with a smile, asks us how we’re doing, and then she hangs up her coat in the pantry and gets to work. She never complains. About anything. I don’t understand it.
At 8:40 I try to get our almost 2-year old daughter in the car to go to the Waterfront Aquarium. It’s not easy. She has now realised that Mama isn’t here, and she is not happy. With all the spirit she can muster she “explains” to me how unhappy she is with the situation. I plead and promise. Somewhere between multiple references to “Nemo” and “Puppet show” I get the car started and we’re on our way. She calms down as we drive out of the neighbourhood. She likes looking outside. The pensive look I see in the rear-view mirror is one of the few things she inherited from me. I’m glad she looks like her mother.
I drive down the R27 on a crisp autumn day. Table Mountain sits right in front of me in the middle of a giant cloud, like it’s being protected from something. It’s beautiful. I stare at it as I try to get our Hyundai Atos above the 80 km/h mark. I miss the Rav4 we had when we lived in America. And I think about this blog post.
Homecoming Revolution asked me to write a follow-up to my Homecoming Thoughts post from a year ago, and I am at a loss. That post generated a lot of comments, and I’m worried because I know if I write down how I really feel many of those commenters will come back and say, “I told you so.” And the question that’s been on my mind for weeks hits me again: Why did we move back?
Meanwhile my wife is at the Milnerton Police Department getting her fingerprints done. She walks in and asks someone where to go; she explains that she is applying for permanent residency in South Africa. “Why would you want to do that?”, the woman asks, perplexed. “I’m married to a South African and we live here now,” she says. The woman shrugs and points my wife in the right direction.
I miss America. I miss the openness of the people, the need to debate everything and anything just because you can. I miss ubiquitous, fast, cheap Internet. I miss Target and customer service that actually provides service. I miss cheap everything, actually (well, with the exception of wine). I miss the vastness of it all, I miss the way the talent in Silicon Valley almost makes you smarter by osmoses. I miss live music. I miss not having an electric fence that malfunctions and wakes us up in the middle of the night. I’m like a poster child for whitewhine.com.
My daughter and I spend all morning at the Aquarium. I’m silently glad we never took her to the Monterey Bay Aquarium – it’s just not a fair comparison. When I get home my wife and I hold a mini strategy session. We lay out our plans for getting around the inefficiencies that stare us in the face every day. We take a break because our daughter is obsessed with the moon right now, and she needs us to “check that way” if maybe it came out during her nap.
Melissa's Food Shop, Bloubergstrand, Cape Town
At 2:07pm my wife takes our daughter to the park, and I head off to Melissa’s Food Shop for a Flat White and some reading time. On the way I’m reminded that tomorrow is trash day. Countless people are outside going through trash cans, eating what hasn’t gone bad yet, storing anything of value for later use. I sit in the sun at Melissa’s, I listen to the Afrikaans conversations around me, and catch glimpses of the Blouberg beach. I’m confused.
At 4:37pm I drive Aretha to the taxi stop at Bayside Mall. She is smiling. She is always smiling. She asks about my time with Aralyn this morning, she asks about my parents. She remembers that my dad turned 70 recently and she asks me how he’s doing. I try to answer through the lump in my throat. For the second time today, I am ashamed. Ashamed for my privileged whining. Ashamed that I can be so discontent in the midst of the enormous blessings I live in every day. I watch Aretha head off into the crowd to find a taxi for her long commute home. And I am ashamed.
All the reasons we gave for moving back to South Africa are still true. The potential of this place is staggering. It’s beautiful beyond measure. But sometimes it is So. Damn. Frustrating. But maybe that’s ok. Because it’s not about an easy life, it’s about a meaningful life.
I mentioned before that we moved here to write a new story for our lives. A story with conflict, because that’s what all great stories are made of. Now that we’re getting what we asked for it might not be fun all the time, but it doesn’t make it a wrong decision. It just makes it the life we chose, and the life we’re determined to live well. We’re here to stay, and all we can do is whine a little less and use our enormous privilege to give back to our community with every possible opportunity we have.
Because that’s what it means to love a country as much as I love mine.
Marcel April 29th, 2011 at 11:31 am
wow, great read, thanks
Dave April 29th, 2011 at 12:09 pm
Sterkte Rian. Well written.
I’ve not travelled abroad much. I’ve never lived in another country. I have family and friends who have left to live elsewhere. I, like you, love this country and the people who live here – for the most part salt of the earth people who don’t sing songs about shooting each other or abusing their positions in society. The political immaturity and pervasive cancer of an attitude of entitlement frustrate me no end.
But it is up to us to make it a better place, one interaction at a time. I can change the way I interact with each person I meet. I can’t change the country that way on my own, but if you and I and a few others walk through each day with that attitude, we can make an impact.
May your life be meaningful here in Africa.
Tim and Kat April 29th, 2011 at 12:27 pm
Nice Rian. I enjoyed that. Keep posting.
We love you guys.
Irene April 29th, 2011 at 1:29 pm
Thanks for the sobering perspective, Rian. All very close to home…
My Welsh husband has been in the UK for 2 weeks now, back to earning pounds because of a convoluted mix of SA’s complicated immigration legislation, and the incompetence of various Home Affairs officials. In short, he may have to wait 6 months before he can work here again; being married to a South African citizen has not meant that he can work here without severe limitations.
Over the past 6 weeks, we’ve dealt with more bureaucracy than we thought possible. Without going into too many boring details, it all boils down to this: we’re incredibly frustrated and we face red tape on an ongoing basis, but we love this country and we’re committed to making things work here, rather than in the UK.
Good luck to you and your wife. We need more people like you.
Rian April 29th, 2011 at 3:02 pm
Irene – yes, I know exactly what you’re going through, and it’s not pretty. The story above is also just the tip of the iceberg for us. Stand strong, and let me know when your husband is back here – we’ll get together and start a Home Affairs support group. Wine essential.
Ben July 15th, 2011 at 9:09 am
Hi Irene, I’m surprised you’ve had so much issues with visa’s and work. I’ve just moved across and used a great service that got me my visa and showed me the best path to employment. Being married to a SA citizen allows me to set up my own company with out the usual employ 5 people, have a 2m turnover and then I simply employ myself and work where ever I need to. Good luck if you try again, I’ve loved every moment of being here.
Irene July 15th, 2011 at 10:35 am
Hi Ben
It’s heart-warming to hear of your visa success story. It sounds like the agency you used actually know what they’re doing. We weren’t so lucky. Our problems started in 2009, when my husband (then fiancé) was given the wrong work permit advice by the agency we used in George. I won’t go into the details here; if you want to, you can read about it on my blog: http://1rene.posterous.com (‘A letter to Helen Zille’)
Since I wrote this (frustrated, rhetorical) post, my husband’s new permit has arrived. Helpfully, some official wrote ‘Visitor’s permit’ on the top of the working permit. It’s laughable. Even though the permit clearly entitles him for work at the specified place of work, its enforceability is now sullied by one admin official’s state of confusion. After waiting for it for 5 months (which is good, I’m told), he can work. But it now means that no financial institution takes him seriously (“It says ‘Visitor’, sir – we’re sorry, but we can’t finance your vehicle if you’ve not got a valid work permit”).
I wish I can say my husband has loved every moment of being here. He’s an upbeat, positive guy. But when the odds just keep on stacking up against you, it’s not easy to stay optimistic.
Gavin April 29th, 2011 at 10:07 pm
Rian,
I read your post at work this morning and it’s been bugging me all day. I just re-read it, and I sincerely hope that you wrote this on one of those ‘bad days’ that we all have. My wife and I are about 6 months behind you in terms of being back in SA after 10 years in Silicon Valley. We’re both South African so obviously the transition has been MUCH easier for us than foryou guys. We’re totally happy (despite some of the hicups that you mentioned), and we want to see people like you totally happy too. Our country needs you, our industry needs you, and our profession needs you… So vasbyt! Please! Home Affairs matters will be sorted out in time. Don’t lose the passion that was so obvious in your earlier blog post on HCR.
Gavin
Rian April 30th, 2011 at 9:04 am
Hi Gavin – thanks for the comment. There are certainly good days and bad days, and I guess I just didn’t want to hide the fact that those bad days will come… But like I said in the post, we’re here to stay, byt vas, and make it work!
Ben May 2nd, 2011 at 5:50 am
Hi Rian, nice to read your blog and the honesty of it. I moved To CT with my wife about 1 year ago from Sydney where we’d been living for 10 years. We’d talked about it often but always found excuses. Then we just decided the time was right and were flying 5 weeks later, jobs quit, agency sold, renovation plans in the bag.
I haven’t regretted it one moment. There are frustrations but so where isn’t? At least I’m not sitting on a tube in London everyday! It’s all how you look at each of the things you face each day. You can either bitch and moan or try to take something good from it. This city is amazing, the depth of the people is incredible and I know I smile much more here – that alone makes it so worth while. I live in Rosebank, don’t live behind bars and have felt more nervous in Coogee on a Friday night than Cape Town. Only down sides are freezing surf (but it’s pretty uncrowded so great!), leaving great friends and trying to make new ones but that always takes a bit of time.
As for visa issues, I just employed an agent (integrate) and they pretty much walked it through quickly and now they are dealing with my permanent as well. If I could do it all again, I would (but I’d ship a car with me!).
Richard May 5th, 2011 at 10:56 pm
Hello there, Rian. I haven’t seen your blog since last August, but pleased you are still committed to life in the country. Your use of the Afrikaans expression “vasbyt” reminded me of the old SADF in apartheid days, when it was used by soldiers, waiting through border duty to go home. It seems that that underlies life in SA, the idea of enduring and endurance.
Peter May 22nd, 2011 at 6:17 pm
Verblyfpermit-chaos http://www.sake24.com/Ekonomie/Verblyfpermit-chaos-20110521
Robby Noel July 14th, 2011 at 1:56 am
Hi Rian….I’ve followed you with great interest as I like you after 30 years in the US decided to return home theres a old American saying …..You Can’t Go Home Again
You Can’t Go Home Again is a novel by Thomas Wolfe. It was published posthumously in 1940 from the October Fair manuscript. The novel tells the story of George Webber, a beginning author, who writes a book that makes frequent references to his home town of Libya Hill. When the residents of Libya Hill read the book and see the egregious distortions Webber penned, they begin sending Webber death threats and menacing letters expressing their discontent with the novel, even though it is held in high regard in the rest of the country. Wolfe, as in many of his other novels, explores the themes of a changing America, including the stock market crash and the illusion of prosperity, and the unfair passing of time, which inhibits George from ever being able to go “home again”. The book is one of his more popular novels, along with Look Homeward Angel.
The title comes from the finale of the novel when protagonist George Webber realizes, “You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood … back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame … back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time — back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.”
“You can’t go home again” has entered American speech to mean that after you have left your country town or provincial backwater city for a sophisticated metropolis, you can’t return to the narrow confines of your previous way of life, and, more generally, attempts to relive youthful memories will always fail. Susan Matt has suggested that the phrase is sometimes spoken to mean that you can’t return to your place of origin without being deemed a failure. In this regard, the phrase is used as a self-admonition or warning. You can’t go home again ambitious Americans tell themselves. They say it as a warning to stick it out, to not dare go home and subject themselves to the prospect of being a failure in the eyes of their family and the friends of their youth.[1]
Hate to break this to you but pack your bags brother the Africa you remember is long gone go home for all it’s faults America is in a word very efficient.Myself personally I write to you from Baja California I returned to SA last September could only deal with it for 6 months
Gavin July 14th, 2011 at 11:19 pm
Robby… what you wrote is easily the biggest load of bullish!t that I have ever read. I am living proof that one CAN go home again. I’ve been back in the new South Africa for almost 1 year now after living in California for 10 years. I learned to love California and I love America too, but I’ve never been happier to be where I am right now. I am in no ways “deemed a failure” as some random person named Susan Matt that you quoted suggests. In fact, the exact opposite is true. The authors that you quote are talking about different experiences than what South African expats over the past 10-30 years have had. Much different! If you find comfort in these authors’ words and it helps you to feel better about where you are that’s fine, but please don’t try to discourage those South African home-comers that can and want to make a positive difference over here. Many people need more than mere “efficiency” to be truly happy.
Dave July 15th, 2011 at 9:03 am
@Gavin In as much as you challenge Robbie’s assertion that “you cannot go back” I agree with you.
@Robbie I do agree with you however that one needs to realise that the place you remember has moved on and changed over the years while you were away and the people most markedly so. It is a “new” and different SA that you are coming to for better or worse. Just as you set your mind to adapt to a new culture in the US, you need to do so all over again coming back, BUT with a knowledge that you share roots and a portion of the history that made this place what it is.
Like Gavin says, many people need more than “efficiency” to be truly happy. I’m one. Just this morning between 2am and 5am I spent time with a neighbour doing neighbourhood watch, all the while debating the pro’s and con’s of remaining here in Africa and being part of those who want to make this a better place. I accept there will be risk, possibly a price to pay, but this land has shaped who I am, and I hope to do my part in shaping what it becomes.
“Your mileage may vary” and I don’t think any less of those who decide to make their lives in places with less challenges.
Robby Noel July 18th, 2011 at 1:13 am
Rian…Sorry if you took my statement as being a discouragement of those wanting to visit home…it was more to do with a American saying of “you can’t go home” ….I will add that living in Baja California I enjoy many of the things that were great about America but sucked in SA …internet access and shopping at WalMart Sams Club and a Apple store ….I wish you well in SA and enjoy your postings ….
Rian July 18th, 2011 at 9:47 am
Hi Robby – no worries, I wasn’t offended at all. We all have our views, and they’re all based on our unique experiences, so I can’t say that what you’re feeling is wrong – it’s what you feel. For my part, I’m still going to give 100% to try to make it work here. I’m lucky in that I’m a dual citizen, so if it doesn’t work out we can move back. But I’m not thinking about that now – it’s important to commit fully for now.
Peter July 24th, 2011 at 11:55 pm
I’d be prepared to wager good money that by this time next year you’ll be settled in the US again or at least well on your way!
Lovely Light August 8th, 2011 at 12:19 am
Hi there- just stumbled on your post. I recently moved here, Cape Town, from the US with my husband and our two dogs. He got a job at UCT on a special skills visa and mine is attached to his. This means that I cannot work and we are living paycheck to paycheck. We’ve applied for permanent residency, but if we cannot sort the money thing out, we might have to move back. We don’t mind living frugally, as long as we are saving money- but we aren’t doing that. We can’t even afford a car because the loans are small and interest rates high, and must be paid off before 3 years! We have a had to adjust to a great many things as well, but are trying very hard to appreciate our experience. I’d love to talk more if you’d like!
Eleni September 6th, 2011 at 12:15 pm
Hi Rian,
While searching the web for fellow South Africans who have gone home or intend to go home I came across your blog and have spent the last few hours reading through posts and replies. My husband and I are both South African, I am half Cypriot so hold a Cypriot, EU passport, and we have been overseas for 3 years now. We spent a year in Paris and have been in Cyprus for 2 years now, just starting out 3rd. I’m a Montessori Teacher and my husband is still finishing his IT degree through UNISA, he coaches professional tennis in the mean time, it’s good money over here! We have had a very interesting adventure and are forever grateful for our experiences overseas but SA has not left my bones! When we left, I was extremely nervous in SA due to the crime situation there as I and almost everyone I knew had had some sort of bad experience and my husband knew it would be easier to pay for his studies while working overseas so we packed up and left. Up until now I was never 100% sure we’d go back and we were keeping all our options open about where we’de settle but my longing for home and most importantly my family is on the increase. I just got back from a month long holiday in SA and find it’s getting more and more difficult to leave each trip home. I come from an extremely close family and my parents and siblings all live in Scottburgh KZN. Leaving them this time broke my heart and although we spend a lot of time on skype and talk almost everyday, it’s not the same and I want to be there… We are also thinking about having our own kids now and I want our kids to know,really know, their grandparents, aunt, uncles etc. So, we have started to discuss going back home once my husband finishes his degree and we get everything in order which will take 2-3yrs and the big question on my mind is obviously will we be doing the right thing? I miss my family, I miss my country, I miss belonging but I am also aware of SA’s darker side.
Lynley Mitchell January 14th, 2012 at 12:29 am
Rian, I found your site through a google search as I am a Pinelands girl married to a Kiwi living in Auckland… We have three boys under 5 years and I miss my family and home town terribly and the thoughts of moving my family of 5 to Cape Town is starting to surface regularly… You haven’t updated your blog for a while I was just wondering where you are at. Have things settled? Are you happy you are in Cape Town and are you having thought moving back to the States? I would love to hear from you if you have some time.
Thanks so much,
Lynley Mitchell
Martin January 28th, 2012 at 1:58 am
Hi Rian,
I have been following your website for a bit over the last 18 months. I know you have not updated for a while and I was wondering, similar to other posters, how you are getting on in Cape Town, how you are adjusting and if you have any thoughts to share on your life back in SA.
My wife and I have lived in the UK over the last 9 years. Both born in Eastern Europe, moved to SA in our early teens, with our respective families immigrating after the fall of Communism. School, university and first jobs were all in SA, with a good bunch of friends to make up for a memorable time. On a whim and with the travel bug in us, we moved to the UK for ‘a few years to travel’. Nine years later, many wonderful trips and great experiences behind us, we are expecting our first child. It has made us sit down and think hard about what we want to do in the future. The cold UK winters, the quickly disappearing ‘back to their home land’ friends, the prospect of no family support in raising our child and the deteriorating economy, has made us consider moving back to SA.
A scary thought at times and an exciting one too. My wife and I have discussed a number of options, including staying in the UK, trying SA for a while, to see if we can adjust back and taking a leap into the unknown by giving Aus a try. Having lived in 3 different countries for almsot equal amount of time has made any such choice difficult. Comparisons between pros and cons for each country has made picking a destination hard and I admit we are stuck in ‘analysis paralysis’ phase for the last 6 months. I wish I felt very strongly about it, I wish I had a gut feel.
We have had friends who have moved back to SA over a year back and I have been seeking their opinions on adjustment and experience. Some are loving it and wishing to stay, others are finding it difficult to justify their move. In the same spirit I am looking to find out how you are getting on, especially after the difficulties you describe, which I guess would be only natural, given your time away from SA and the added challenge of dealing with red tape.
Thanks again for sharing your thoughts.
Martin
Rian January 29th, 2012 at 4:53 pm
Hi everyone,
If you think I’ve abandoned this site, the real answer is a lot more sinister – I’m actually ignoring you
The reason is that I’m just not sure how to respond. We have great days (vacation in Storms River, seeing Johnny Clegg at Kirstenbosch) and horrible days (excruciating inefficiencies in some sectors).
But in the end, one thing remains true: our lives are not boring. I’m reminded of something I wrote in 2009, before we moved:
“The decision to live in South Africa, especially if you’ve lived somewhere else in the world for a while, is made for reasons that transcend the traditional Western values of consumerism and security.”
That also remains true for us. All I can say is, don’t move here for money. Move here because you can’t see your future any other way. It’s the only way you’ll be able to deal with the frustration.
Sorry if that seems like I’m dodging the question. I promise to write again once I can find better words for how we feel right now.