Are we there yet?

Well, it's been nearly 3 months since we flew into Johannesburg and life has assumed some sense of normality here. Despite William saying to me on an almost weekly basis that, "I don't mind being here for a little while Mum, but I prefer living in Australia", we are continuing to make ourselves somewhat at home in South Africa.

Our weekends have been packed with adventures both near and far and on the downtime, William has a host of playmates to choose from in the street. I've found myself a couple of coffee friends and am on first name basis with the security guard at the front gate of the estate, a relationship which provides me no end of entertainment. Our morning conversation goes a little like this...

"Morning Christoffe"

"Morning Ma'am", followed by an amazingly white cheesy grin. End of conversation.

Just to spice things up a little, I have been indulging in a bit of Zulu, so our chats have become somewhat more musical of late.

"Sawubona Christoffe, unjani?"
"Ngiapila"

If I get it right, I get the same big cheesy grin. Otherwise, I get a confused look and a small shake of the head. He is trying to teach me one word a day, so at this rate, I should become fluent in 35 years. Useful.

So, to all intents and purposes, it would seem we have well and truly arrived. I've been pondering the evidence of this of late, and have come up with a few events and changes in our behaviour that not only mean we have arrived, but we might actually be assimilating at some level...

• When you have completed so many forms, paperwork and identity checks that you have left a paper trail of your existence that is visible from the moon.....BUT, you still expect (and are grateful) that it will take only another 3 visits to the bank to open an account.
• When you get your car cleaned at least once a week. Seriously...we really do. David Attenborough would be astounded at this behavioural change in us.
• When you drive 60km to Mtubatuba for a coffee and on the way you drive straight through 2 stop signs, exceed the speed limit by an average of 20km/hr and force at least 30 cars onto the shoulder so you can pass them (hey, I flashed my hazzard lights as I passed).
• When you braai at least once a week - and not with coals either, you go the wood option for the extra time and flavour.

Simon is fast learning a South African mantra "To live is to braai..."

• When your son asks to watch tv and you tell him he can watch it "just now" and he knows you mean "No, go and do something else".
• When you your evening meal contains red meat on 6 out of 7 nights - any less and we'd consider ourselves verging on vegetarianism.
• When you can't just pop down the shops in your uggies and track suit pants anymore as people in the neighbourhood are starting to know who you are.
• And further, you start spotting those very people getting out and about in the social pages of the Zululand Observer.

Well, nearly there, but none of these quite tell me we have totally assimilated yet. What did however, was a request from William as I was packing his lunch bag for school the other day. I normally go for the fruit option for morning tea, with the occasional biscuit or two thrown in if I'm feeling soft. But on this particular day, William had a request for his lunch pack....

"Mum, can you put biltong in my lunch box for morning tea?"

I think we're there.

Routine, schmootine

So now we've "assimilated" at some level, it's time to get into a bit of routine. Our most important item on the agenda is that we go off adventuring at least every second weekend.  So far, we've been true to the cause and it doesn't look like we are about to run out of exciting possibilities any time soon.

In the interim, work, school and the business of living are the necessary evils we must get through. Since completing the myriad of administrative tasks required to settle in a new country, I now have a fairly consistent daily routine that keeps me entertained.

The morning drop off to work and school is a fairly frantic occasion, although once in the car we are soothed by the amusing commentary provided by East Coast Radio, the Durban based radio station which seems to have a monopoly on the airwaves. It's not 720, but the main man seems to have his finger on the pulse of the social and political life of the country, providing some amusing, accurate and often inappropriate insights into this very complex society.

Following the drop off, I head to the gym and get stuck into one of their classes or do some laps. A coffee always follows, after which I do the odd job or two and shop for food. In between times, I have about 16 'Words With Friends' games on the go which is proving a real distraction to my productivity, however, as it's the most regular communication I've had with my 3 brothers in 10 years, I don't really mind. In addition, whether my days are productive or not is largely insignificant. Ooops. Did I really write that?

For the swimming girls - here's the 25m in which I indulge.

Before I know it, it's off to pick up WIlliam from school.  He's playing after school sport on 4 afternoons a week now (tennis and soccer), so I head down early to have a look and chat with the other mums who turn up. It's usually quite an amusing show with the standard fare of school parent politics. Those who know any South African will be aware of their penchant to possess and express some fairly forthright opinions. I tend to avoid the politics where possible but it is amusing to sit back and listen to just exactly how strongly one can feel about the new school tracksuit and just how many people are going to hear about it.

After all that, we've still got swimming lessons on Monday, while Friday is horse riding. No wonder WIlliam is so exhausted!!!

Here he is, learning to trot on NightSky, a beautiful old nag.

And so...

...we were driving along to pick up SImon from work the other night and William piped up from the back of the car with a new take on things, "Mum, it's going to be really hard to leave here and go back to Australia isn't it......?" Oh dear.