Fashion, Roadside Shopping, and Other Stories

This blog entry is just a potpourri of some amusing/interesting stories...

First...there is a gentleman at my office who is basically the Czar of the supply cabinet. When I went and asked for binder clips I was asked how many I needed. I don't know, I replied, a few? Five? With that, he counted out and had me sign for exactly 5 binder clips. But that's not the main point of the story. He calls me "Lady from America" and is always keen to talk about things in the US, namely clothing. Not long ago he approached me and asked when I would be taking a trip. I don't know, I replied. He proceeded to ask me to please give him advance notice of any up-coming trips because he wanted to talk to me about wash and wear pants that apparently they sell in America and did I have any of these wash and wear pants. Recently, he said he also wanted to talk to me about heavy-weight Pendleton shirts. I don't exactly know what he's talking about, but clearly these articles of clothing are a must-have for everyone. So, if you happen to see wash and wear pants or Pendleton shirts in your travels, buy some!

Second...our domestic help, a woman in her 60s or so named Renith (Ren) returned from holiday finally. She'd worked previously for our land lord so we were quite pleased to inherit someone trust worthy and reliable. The first day she cleaned for us, I went to work late to greet her and essentially give her the low-down on what I wanted done. One thing she asked was for me to please show her our closets and drawers so she could see where our clothing went so that, after washing, folding, ironing, it could be put back in it's place. I was embarrassed to open Jeremy's closet because, in STARK contrast to my own, it was, well, quite disorganized. Despite the fact that just a couple weeks earlier I'd carefully arranged everything when I was unpacking our stuff. I made some off-hand comment to Ren about how Jeremy's closet was messy and I used to clean it for him but now I don't anymore. To which she replied, in a most amazed voice, "No, he is your husband and you must help him! He is a man and he needs help. You and I, we are a team and we will help your husband." There you have it folks, getting a lesson in wifely responsibilities from my maid. While women's lib has caught on with the younger black women, it hasn't so much among her generation, to say the least. Ren also told me I was too hard on Fuggles the cat...apparently I am quite the man-eater! So, to all my married girlfriends out there: your husband is just a man and you must help him! As an FYI, Ren does iron Jeremy's shirts far better than I ever could and his closet is in immaculate order (at least it is from Friday morning until maybe Saturday mid-afternoon).

At the major intersection near our office you can do/purchase the following:
A car charger for your cell phone
A hands free device
Little beaded/wire animals
Newspapers
Rolls of sod for all your landscaping needs
Get the freon topped off for your car's air conditioning (my favorite)

Third...Jeremy and I went to the Apartheid Museum this past weekend. Id been but he hadn't. When you come to visit us, it is really a must-see. A world class museum...as the brochure says, it is good to see apartheid exactly where it belongs: in a museum. That being said...after our visit Jeremy and I stood out on the terrace at the panorama of the Jo'burg skyline, complete with both tailings dams and sky scrapers. Jeremy commented, very astutely, that, although apartheid is a thing of the past, he couldn't help but wonder how many people's daily lives remained very much the same. Ren, for example. She was a domestic worker for white women before the ANC took over and that's what she's doing now. There are actually more shanty towns in the black townships and it's still really difficult to get ahead. There is still a long way to go.

Standard Bank, our bank, finally decided that we were ready to graduate to proper adult bank accounts. Seriously, we've had "training" bank accounts until we could prove that we could manage our money. Opening these adult accounts of course required more copies of passports, lease, utility bill, pay stubs, employment contracts, etc. Standard Bank now has on file at least 20 copies of my passport, three copies of our lease, four copies of my employment contract and one signed form from Jeremy verifying that, yes, we're married and I'm allowed to live with him (because his name is on the lease). Not to mention that I got a call yesterday from our banker asking if it was possible to get a copy of my marriage certificate. Where does it all go? I think the way to make money is to invest in either paper companies or document storage. Forget gold mining.....they don't have any power to operate, anyway!