apartheid hangover--may 3, 2006.

that's what i like to call the following observation from my 3rd apartment hunt since moving to Africa. that's right, i'm moving AGAIN. here is your first installment of apartheid hangover:

There are 4 real estate offices in Muizenberg that I know of. 3 on Main Road, 1 in the circle by the beach.
OFFICE #1: bleach-blonde, cracked out, 70 year old retired surfer dude--
"are those boys with you?" he points at nieltjie standing in the doorway, and russie chasing a flock of seagulls in the parking lot.

OFFICE #2: sterile office, elderly woman with drawn-on face, young man with fresh cup of coffee & too many faulty stereotypes--
"your friends CANNOT come in. watch out for them. they are dangerous."

OFFICE #3: lady who won't even open the barred door.
Dirty scowl, as Russie uses my arms and torse as a human jungle gym. "no, we have nothing available."

OFFICE #4: elderly couple.
"are you walking with these boys?" nieltjie whispers, "ashley stay outside with us." old lady grabs my wrist and pulls forcefully, thinking the dirty black kid is going for my neck. russie screams "go in. it's fine."
"ma'am. i'm just goint to sit outisde with my friends while oyu talk to her (melissa)." i try to walk away.
"no, you will come in." yanks my arm again. "these boys are naughty. you don't know how they are. they will steal everything from you."
i look down at russie holding melissa's purse, and nieltjie holding my cell phone. "I think we'll be fine", i say with a forced smile.

I sit on the curb. russie grabs a brick and teases the lady through the window. ricky and nieltjie sit down next to me, russie climbs on my back like a monkey.
"they are just like all the other white people who hate us", ricky says.

the 3 kids look in my eyes, and i look back. we all remember the obvious.