The Mother City: Cape Town, South Africa
It is interesting that in all my wandering I have never written about Cape Town. Interesting because I come from there and go there often. The 'mother city' is my maternal roost literally and symbolically. I was born in Johannesburg, but moved to Cape Town when I was twelve. Except for two or so years of travel I remained there until I was twenty six. In my mind Cape Town is my origin town. I go back every year to be with my mother, to let my children run naked and barefoot. I went there to birth Aziz Elan, and I go back to remind myself of something wild in me that I never meet anywhere else.
I have never felt home sick. My mother once asked me if I ever felt that way and my answer surprised both of us. I can imagine a feeling of home sickness. A longing for a place that tugs deep. But I don't feel it enough in relation to any place I have been yet. When I left Cape Town and immigrated, I knew I would never move back. That knowing has slowly unfolded into me losing my South African citizenship and passport, for bureaucratic reasons. Most people look at me strangely, that kind of look which questions a little critically because it cannot place in the usual category. The look relates to this lack in me of homesickness.
But this lack is also a gain. Even the term 'home sick' inspires a malady. When my toddler asked me in a shower a few weeks ago, 'mama where is our home', I said 'baby, home is where we are'. For my children home changes sometimes monthly - the physical structure of it. But home remains constant, the essence of it. Home is the anchor of us being together, its origin is relationship. Since the structure changes, I am constant, I am the anchor. Being the bedrock for my children has finally given me a sense of home. I now carry home with us, my body is my home, our bodies together makes our home. Having a home like this means places become nests, we create and dismantle, fly to and from. Whilst I may never pine for the mother city, it is one of our central nests.
I love visiting Cape Town every year. I stay for six weeks at least. Being there tops my soul up in every way. It remains one of the most exquisite cities I have seen. It is also unusual in having nature in such proximity. Looping around Table Mountain, the city entwines with the mountain and forest, circled by two oceans. Where they meet is a point that has one of my favorite places on earth - Scarborough.
Cape Town has plenty to offer but I like to partake mostly of its nature. Kirstenbosch garden is magic. Ruya runs barefoot, plays in the rivers throwing mud and building cakes, we lie in the grass, smell flowers and fynbos, stare at the mountain. There are stretches of lawn to run on and a forrest section to hide in. If you walk high enough you sit right under Table mountain and feel the vastness of life. It's safe, it's perfect for children, it nurtures me. I managed to get a yearly card which allowed frequent use. Otherwise it can get a bit pricey but well worth it.
Newlands forest has no fee except the sweet car guard who deserves a decent tip. It's not always safe so be streetwise. In general you have to be streetwise because nothing is safe in South Africa. Crime is palpable, everyone is touched by it. But if you can handle the stress of keeping security in mind at all times, you can get the calm the beauty around offers. The forest walks get better and better the further up you go. I hiked every weekend as a teenager, and now my daughter strides up the path. The smell of the pine impresses on me. On hot days it's perfect shade and in winter the rivers flow strong and gum boots provide excellent puddle splashing play.
As for food there are some things I always eat depending on season. Litchi's are Ruya's favorite. Avocado's are excellent and abundant. The butternut and sweet potato are the best I have eaten anywhere. Granadilla's are a special treat, as are guava. If you eat meat then biltong is a staple. And Ruya's treat is a guava roll. The only thing though that I take away with me is bags of rooibos tea. Even though you can buy it elsewhere I stock up with the local organic stuff. Rooibos tea is something I miss when I can't get it.
About forty five minutes from the city center is a little spot of wildness. Scarborough is tiny, a rare find. For such proximity to a large city it remains wild. The ocean and reserve enclose it. The stars shine vivid at night. You see buck and snacks and there are plenty of bugs in the house. The children play in the strong waves with an instinct I am impressed by. Everyone boogie boards or surfs. There is nothing there except nature. Two small restaurants and a sort of shop with some products, provide for lunches out and tea. The place is a haven. Depending on the tides we play in rock pools, which still have plenty of of star fish and sea anemone for Ruya to put her fingers into. At night once the babies sleep, I sit outside, smell the fynbos, stare at stars and reflect. It's the kind of place I have insights in. The most recent of which made me realize I need to find a base, a place I can call home. I might not get homesick for it. I may not be there always. But I could plant a fruit tree, house a few special things, and most of all give my children a nature home like I had as a child. I realized that home for me in a structural way is on land near some wildness.
In the meantime I carry the wild with me. And place it where we go.
