Table Mountain Connection

Second day in Berg en Dal. Today we visited Mujekonde, and then took off for Kapasi Kele. Els Beerten, Florence Filton, Karin Lachmising, Stanley Slijngaard (Sombra) and myself: Marieke Visser. We met Alwin Lienga, also known as Aloe, one of the elders in the village. When he was fourteen, he had to leave his house, his home, his grounds ... And with him many others, because of the Afobaka Lake, the reservoir. We talk about home. Home is where the earth is, the heart is where the earth is. Florence Filton: "We have common ground that we walk on". I feel good:it feels right that we all are here at this moment in time. We are not displaced, we are not displaced, we are not dis-pla-ha-ced ... At least not now. Still, there is a sad vibration: the history of the verhoisikondre , the transmigration villages. Also the ambiguous recent history of the Berg en Dal resort. Familymembers of ancestors buried at Berg en Dal feel ignord and mistreated by the company who developed the resor...

Vandaag, tide, today ... we have arrived at Berg en Dal. Some have arrived after days of traveling from far away , others have been caught up with daily life and maybe still feel as if they need to arrive. Okay, that could be me speaking for myself. It helped to ly on my back, listen to the sounds of nature, watching the clouds, seeing the day say goodbye, the night taking over. There are mixed feelings coming with this beautiful place. And in that way, memories of our stay at Goudini Spa, near Capetown, in 2008, also come back, echoing ... echoing ... echoing ... Food for thought. Again. Still, at the end of the day, I feel as if I'm looking at several movies at the same time, switching, zapping, wondering.

“A true poem is something to be afraid of”. This is how the line of a Surinamese poem by Trefossa (pen name of Henri Frans de Ziel, 1916-1975) could be translated: “Wan tru puwema na wan skreki sani”. The title of this poem is used as the title of a literary event in Suriname: Wan Tru Puwema . The event will be held from November 1 to 5, 2010. There will be a rich representation of writers from Suriname as well as writers from Aruba, Belgium, Curaçao, South Africa, Suriname and the Netherlands. Including a variety of events that are open to the public, Wan Tru Puwema is organized as both a conference and a festival, which is why the organizers are calling the activity a ‘confest’. The writers will discuss, write, and present on the subject of multilingualism. They will also visit schools and speak to students about their craft and experiences with multilingualism. The conference activities will result in a publication on multilingualism, which will be published in March 2011. Wan Tr...

Connecting gets easier all the time ... Today's Xhosa tweet: "Yimini entle!" (It’s a beautiful day!) Learn some new Xhosa words every day. Follow twitter: http://twitter.com/xhosafundis or check the website: www.xhosafundis.co.za/ Did you now there's a Xhosa to English translator? Look here and translate all you want: http://mokennon2.albion.edu/x2e.htm and the other way around too: http://mokennon2.albion.edu/e2x.htm So, once again, "Yimini entle!"

in ‘n land van beskaafdes jy was as frats ingehok en moes jy wag, suster baartman vir die vloek om weg te gaan: "Jirre, ek is een van djou tjeeners maarie mense hille algar sê ek is ‘n goggatjie moetie lat hille my seer- of doodmakie" maar as verlange jou byt kon jy gaan na ‘n beter plek met jou kaalvoet-gebed: "Jirre, as djy weer reënbooggoggatjies stuur om te kô kyk of dit genôg gereentit sê hille ‘seblief om my te kô haal" toe ferrus* jou oorskot vanuit die koue daar anderkant bring en jou vel die afrika-son voel het ons hulde gebring: "Jirre, vindag wil ons trug report – daar’s niks meer om oor te stry of te wonner oor vergewe en vergeetie…" want sara ís vry sý is vry sy is vrý * Diana Ferrus is welbekend vir haar gedig oor Sara Baartman. Haar gedig "Vir Sara Baartman" is gepubliseer in die Franse wet wat spesiaal gemaak is om Sara se terugkeer moontlik te maak. ©2009 Selwyn Milborrow

Vanaand. Hoog agter ou Tafelberg Pryk majestueuse wolke waar rooi die son ter ruste gaan en met die laaste strale 'n tafereel van grys en pienk met silwer rande tooi. 'n Sinsverrukkend skouspel wat tog 'n rukkie talm dat ook ons op die vlakte vanaf 'n ver afstand waardering kan betoon vir die kuns van lig en skadu. (Monty Isaacs)

Tafelberg Ruwe rots altaar van hoop tot offertafel afgeplat, hoog verhef bo die see se blou, in majesteit teen die asuur geets, wat soms misterieus die kop, vir die menseoog verskuil, onder 'n wolkekleed bedek. Aan weerskante staan die Duiwel en die Leeu op wag sfinkse wat die Goeiehoop bewaar, die moeder van beskawing in hul arms vou. Met grys graniet Apostels wat daar van ver af volg, asof geroepe tot die rots, staan eeue al op vaste voet onwrikbaar die aanslae van die Kaapse storms teen. Steeds, elkekeer, net soos nou, in volle glorie asem roof. (Monty Isaacs)