I’ve Been Rich, I’ve Been Poor. Rich is Better?

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Knysna

We had made our way through this town of holidaymakers, industry, new subdivisions, and luxury estates, sea- and lake-view estates, multimillion-dollar waterfront apartments, huge mansions side by side, crammed in for a piece of the view of the sea and mountains. I couldn’t breathe. We were headed for the indigenous forest with a longing to walk and be nourished by nature. To be in the calm and peace.

We turned up toward the mountain, at once noticing the absence of signs and fences. No barbed wire o high gates with cameras and imposing entranceways. None of that, but instead, wooden and tin shacks leaning at impossible angles, patched together with varying bits of wood, sticks, and an occasional old door or salvaged window. Pigs and cows grazing amongst the children, playing and laughing, and the washing lines of colourful clothing flapping in the rainy breeze. People looked up and smiled as we drove past. I am stunned by the contrast. They have a view of the sea, too, up here on the mountainside, and somehow they seem happier, freer, than those hiding behind their great stone walls and busy lives.

The silence of the forest was what I needed to remember who I am. I love it here, in this simplicity, where animal and earth and plant know how to live in harmony.

Too soon, night is falling, and we say goodbye to the tall trees and the cool air.

Back in our shiny red rental car, we are driving down the mountain again. We slow down to look (is it OK to look?) at the village of tiny ramshackle homes. Women with babies wrapped to their backs in blankets, cuddled and safe. A stream of men climbing the road home after a long day’s work. Greetings and calls abound as this community gathers at the end of another day.

We drive past, and I wish we could stop and get to know these people, with their strength of spirit and big wide smiles.

Driving on, we arrive back at our B&B, pass through the electric gate, park next to the razor wire, and use three keys to unlock our way into our luxury accommodation.

I wonder where I belong - and who I want to be.

Jane (May 17, 2007)

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Photos

Upper Crust
This stunning house was set on about a billion ha of camera-patrolled, razor-wired mountainside overlooking a stunning beach.

The Other Side of the Tracks
We've been a week in South Africa, and still it's confusing to see such massive contrast between the acres and acres of land crowded with these homes, and the acres and acres of land with just one mansion behind razor wire and cameras.

See How Beautiful
And, yes, it's home. And, yes, there's pride and dignity.

Jane on Holiday
What can I say?

Jelly
Wouldn't want to bump into this while learning to doggy-paddle.

Comments

[Judith]

Hellooooooo! You lovelies! Great to read your stories, and even get to see you too! Wonderful. Glad to read that you made it there and that your adventure has finally started. Enjoy enjoy enjoy. All's well here, have finally spent a WHOLE weekend at home pottering, which was lovely (still no wallpaper though, oh well). And now i've skived off work to write reports at home (oh and maybe a little internetsurfing). Not as exciting as your life at present, but still, I'm happy. happy travels, you beautiful two! Looking forward to more blogging! Lots of love and bubbles, hope to see you in the Galapagos Isles! Judith XXX

[Juliet]

the contrast!
I feel moved by the photos and the contrast, and knowing that the forest was there too, between the rich and the poor. I wonder if the poor go to the forest?