African Salad with Lime Dressing

Serves 6

This salad combination of greens and fruits are served in parts of Africa.

In a bowl, stem, wash, and tear into medium-sized pieces:
2 quarts raw spinach
2 quarts romaine
1 quart chicory
1 quart  lettuce
Fill salad bowls with the mixture of greens.

Use any flesh fruits, coconut, and chopped peanuts in combinations like this:
Fresh pineapple cut in fingers, about 3 per bowl
Fresh mango in strips, about 2-3 per bowl
Avocado dipped in lemon juice and cut in strips
Fresh coconut cut in thin slices
Oranges (California type), thinly sliced
Bananas cut in chunks, thinly coated with greek yoghurt
Chopped peanuts (or coconut)
1 pint-basket strawberries or any berries in season.
Arrange the fruits attractively in the individual salad bowls or in one large bowl.

Lime dressing
Ingredients:

• 1/3 cup of honey
• 1/4 cup of lime juice
• 2 tbsp each of lemon and orange juice
• 1/2 tbsp of finely grated ginger
• 1/2 tsp of cardamom seeds
• 2 tbsp of almond oil
• 2 cups of fresh blueberries
• chopped mint

Preparations:

In a blender, put a 1/3 cup of honey, a 1/4 cup of lime juice, 2 tbsp each of lemon and orange juice, a 1/2 tbsp of finely grated ginger, a 1/2 tsp of cardamom seeds and 2 tbsp of almond oil. Blend to a smooth sauce.

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Tomato and Mutton Bredie (Stew)

Ingredients:

• 2 lb mutton shoulder (may substitute with beef shoulder]
• 1½ cups chicken stock
• ½ cup white wine
• 6 ripe red tomatoes
• 70g can tomato paste
• 3 potatoes
• 3 cloves garlic
• 2 onions
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 Tbsp butter
• 1 Tbsp potato flour
• 1 tsp sugar
• 1 tsp mixed herbs
• salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
• ½ tsp paprika
• ¼ tsp chili powder

Preparations:

Cut the meat into 1 to 1 ½ inch cubes Peel and dice the potatoes. Peel and crush the cloves of garlic. Peel and chop the onions.

Heat the oil and butter in a big, heavy-bottomed saucepan, over medium heat until the butter discolors. Add the meat in batches and stir-fry until brown. Remove each batch with a slotted spoon and keep aside. Season the browned meat with salt and pepper.

Sauté the onions in the remaining oil until golden, soft and translucent Remove onion mixture and set aside. Add wine and simmer until reduced by half. Add the tomatoes, tomato paste, sugar, chili, paprika, garlic, herbs and stock. Bring to a slow boil.

Add the prepared meat, reduce the heat, cover and simmer the stew very slowly for 2 hours.
Add the cubed potatoes and continue simmering for another ½ hour.
Thicken the gravy with a little potato flour mixed with water. Prepare a day in advance and leave to mature in the refrigerator.

Reheat and serve with steamed rice. Traditionally, a handful of chopped parsley will be added to the rice.

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South African Melktert (Milk Tart)

It is a traditional South African tart that is very easy to prepare.

Serves 6
Ingredients:

• 3 tablespoons butter, melted
• 1 cup white sugar
• 3 egg yolks
• 1 cup cake flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 4 cups milk
• 3 egg white
• 1 tablespoon cinnamon sugar

Preparations:
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Coat a 9 inch deep dish pie plate with vegetable oil cooking spray.

In a large bowl, mix together the butter and sugar until smooth. Add the egg yolks and beat until light and fluffy. Sift in the cake flour, baking powder and salt, and stir until well blended. Mix in the vanilla and milk. In a separate bowl, whip the egg whites to stiff peaks using an electric mixer. Fold into the batter. Pour into the prepared pie plate, and sprinkle cinnamon sugar over the top.

Bake for 25 minutes in the preheated oven, then reduce the temperature to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Continue to bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the center is set when you gently jiggle the pie. Serve hot or cold.

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This poem was nominated by UN as the best poem of 2006.
Written by an African Kid

When I born, I black
When I grow up, I black
When I go in Sun, I black
When I scared, I black
When I sick, I black
And when I die, I still black

And you white fellow
When you born, you pink
When you grow up, you white
When you go in sun, you red
When you cold, you blue
When you scared, you yellow
When you sick, you green
And when you die, you gray

And you calling me colored?

I thought it was very meaningful on how the world looks at colored people.

I'm very much yellow, for eg.

And I can't help but feel a similar thread running through my veins.

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Whereas Mzee Jomo Kenyatta was a transitional leader, managing change from colonialism to African majority rule, Moi got into power when Kenya had become a truly African state. With time, Moi’s actions and policies came to resemble those of neighboring states from which Kenya had distinguished itself with its relatively sophisticated socio-economic and political structures.

Moi’s presidency was a contradiction of sorts: on one hand he craved the awe which Jomo Kenyatta got from the public. On the other hand, he wanted to be different from Kenyatta, by being more in touch with the average man in the village.

When he assumed the reigns of government, Moi started traveling in a Volkswagen Kombi, raising eyebrows. As it was argued, such types of conveyance are for ordinary folk, not for a President. However, Moi was determined to get his people. The Kombi was the only vehicle which could grapple with the country's difficult terrain - dusty roads, hairpin bends, precarious cliffs, unbeaten tracks.

One time, while on his way from Kisumu to Nakuru, Moi expressed the wish to use a short-cut from Sondu through Sigowet to Kericho town. His aides condemned the route as impassable. "Are there people living in the area where this road passes?" he asked and declared he had to tackle the road, passable or otherwise.

After ascending to the presidency on 14th October 1978, Moi pledged to maintain the stability that Kenya had enjoyed since independence. He sought to assure apprehensive citizens, investors and diplomats that he would follow the footsteps of Mzee Kenyatta. But it soon became clear that Moi had his own ideas for the country. Whereas Kenyatta practiced a hands-off style of leadership, Moi preferred hands-on management. He famously said, "Those who want to lead the country must wait their turn ... I am the President and every minister must sing like a parrot to my tune."

While emphasizing national unity, Moi laid great emphasis on the need for dynamism in a globalizing world. Moi can be credited for introducing changes that would have been virtually impossible under the Kenyatta era. Moi’s critics say his initiatives were expensive experiments culminating in failure. However, Moi’s critics are mostly Kenyattaists and had they been in power, the country would have petrified in stagnation. The fact that some of Moi’s programmes did not succeed could be attributed to sabotage by Kenyatta loyalists inherited by Moi’s administration.

As president, Moi’s first decision was to release political detainees from the Kenyatta era. These were politicians, academics, university students and journalists detained for criticizing Kenyatta’s government. Several of them had been in detention so long that they were in a critical condition requiring advanced medical treatment.

During Kenyatta’s presidency, the civil service, security forces and state corporations came to be dominated by members of Kenyatta’s tribe, the Kikuyu. This was not a deliberate policy on Kenyatta's part but a product of historical circumstances that placed the Kikuyu at an advantage in work skills and entrepreneurial ability. Moi set about creating ethnic balance in government organs by appointing more people from other communities. Eventually, Moi’s Kalenjin tribe dominated the civil service and this evoked resentment among other Kenyans.

Unlike Kenyatta’s appointees, Moi’s tribesmen had little training for their new jobs. Matters were worsened by Moi’s tendency of picking individuals from lowly positions, transforming them into overnight power brokers and later dumping them when they became too big-headed for their own usefulness. Because of this, Moi had neither permanent friends nor permanent enemies. He was loyal to nobody but himself - a true Machiavellian characteristic.

Moi’s most serious challenge was the coup attempt of 1st August 1982. The poorly planned coup attempt by junior officers of the Kenya Airforce was crushed by Army and paramilitary units within a matter of hours. However the coup is said to have awakened Moi to the risks of power and from that day onwards, he took on a higher measure of political self-preservation. After the coup attempt, the security forces were purged of Kenyattaists who were replaced by Moi loyalists. In subsequent elections, politicians whose allegiance was doubtful lost their seats through political machinations engineered by the President’s henchmen.

Between 1982 and the early 1990s, Moi was determined to keep a tab on the opposition and resorted to tactics varying from detention without trial, torture, electronic surveillance, intimidation and outright thuggery. There has never been any direct evidence personally linking Moi with any of these acts and its possible he was misinformed about threats to his administration.

Moi’s political maneuvres provoked a backlash against the ruling Kenya African National Union (KANU). Moi, eager to strengthen the party, had talked Parliament into enacting a constitutional amendment that made KANU the only legal political party. By the late 1980s there were demands for reintroducing multiparty democracy from the growing ranks of politicians seeking alternative avenues for contesting political office. Demands for multipartyism, coupled with pent-up frustration with Moi, led to riots in Kenya’s major towns in July 1990.

The riots were crushed; several dozen people lost their lives. International financiers and Western nations pressurized Moi to open up the political frontiers. Monetary assistance was scaled down – a devastating blow for a government that had 30% of its budget financed from foreign assistance. The international media went on a feeding frenzy and described Moi as a typical African dictator. In December 1991, Moi asked Parliament to amend the constitution and legalize opposition parties for the first time in ten years.

It would be another ten years before opposition parties could win power but only because Moi was no longer a candidate in the 2002 elections. Moi was unbeatable because his opponents often underestimated his intelligence by virtue of his rural-poor origins and heavily accented English.

Among the reasons Moi gave for opposing multipartyism was incitement to ethnic nationalism. Soon after the opposition was legalized, tribal clashes erupted in the Rift Valley and persist to this day. The clashes were sparked by Cabinet Ministers who declared the Rift Valley – Moi’s home province – out of bounds to the opposition. Ethnic groups thought to be sympathetic to the opposition were attacked by Moi’s Kalenjin tribe, houses burnt and farms forcefully occupied. The clashes caused major economic losses as property was destroyed, trading activities disrupted and agricultural production ruined.

Upon the re-introduction of multipartyism in 1992 until the close of his presidency in 2003, Moi stopped being development conscious. Moi devoted his time and energies exclusively to politics because of legalized competition for his job. Political intrigues intensified as politicians sought presidential patronage – and the cash that went with it. Financial scandals became routine in Moi’s government throughout the 1990s as his cronies devised means of acquiring wealth in the shortest possible time.

Moi turned state functions into full time campaign rallies and these were held, not only on weekends, but at anytime during the week. Cabinet ministers and members of parliament, eager to win the favor of the president, tagged along wherever he went. The result: possibly one of the longest Presidential motorcades of an African president. A typical motorcade accompanying Moi consisted of at least 50 limousines with cabinet ministers, heads of state corporations, security chiefs and several diplomats.

Among the notable successes of the Moi presidency was reform of the education system. By the early 1980s, a Canadian educationist said that education should stop producing white-collar graduates. The educationist said the future of labor was one of uncertainty, making it necessary to equip graduates with practical skills that are easily transferable across different work environments. Despite criticism, Moi went ahead and implemented the recommendations.

School children were introduced to home science, business education, agriculture, arts, crafts and music. In high schools, students were taught power mechanics, electricity, accounting, metal work, carpentry, social ethics and sex education. Today, education experts acknowledge the wisdom of imparting practical skills on children, in a world where retraining and career shifts has become the accepted norm.

During Moi’s presidency, thousands of schools sprang up across the country while four additional public universities were built to create a skilled work force.

Regardless of what is said about Daniel arap Moi, the former teacher, legislator, cabinet minister, President and Member of Parliament has left his mark not only on Kenyans but also in international affairs. He initiated peace efforts across Africa most of which were successful. These include Namibia's independence, Uganda's civil war negotiations that began the Yoweri Museveni era and the Southern Sudan peace process. Moi's advice was greatly sought by world leaders such as US President Ronald Reagan, British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and Chancellor Helmut Kohl of West Germany.

Moi's presidency began in 1978 with a promise to follow the footsteps of Mzee Jomo Kenyatta. It can be said that Moi fulfilled his ambition of becoming a defining standard. "President Moi has made his own footprints in the sands of time," said Mrs Thatcher.

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With references from Lee Njiru’s article: "The Making of a President." Kenya Times, December 11, 1997
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China's formidable state machinery was able to stage the largest Olympics in history and to have a "Taikonaut" perform a 20-minute spacewalk last week. Yet the world-scale scandal emanating from contaminated milk products has exposed the worsening malaise in the country's political and administrative structure.

As of early October, four children died and more than 60,000 children were sickened after having consumed milk powder tainted with melamine, an illegal chemical used by farmers to fake the protein content of their milk. Not only rich countries such as the United States and Britain, but also Asian and African nations ranging from Singapore and Vietnam to Gabon and Ghana, have banned Chinese made dairy goods and a wide range of biscuits and candies made with Chinese ingredients.

More than a dozen big-name manufacturers within China's $20 billion dairy industry - as well as the country's food safety regulatory system - have been found guilty of either conniving in the use of the chemical or failing to spot the malpractice, according to reports.

The milk powder scandal has dealt a severe blow to the "made in China" brand even as the growth of China's exports - the most important driver of the Chinese economy - has been slowed by economic downturn in its major markets.

More significantly, China's export of tainted milk products - which has come on the heels of contaminated cosmetics and pet food as well as dangerous toys and furniture - has severely damaged the goodwill and "soft power" that the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has tried to gain through multi-billion dollar "prestige-engineering projects" such as the 2008 Beijing Olympics and the 2010 Shanghai World Expo.

In an emotional meeting with the parents of children who had fallen sick after imbibing tainted milk, Premier Wen Jiabao said he felt "very guilty" about the poisoned milk, adding "I sincerely apologize to all of you."

While appearing at the United Nations General Assembly as well as the World Economic Forum (WEF), Wen assured the international community of Beijing's ability to fix the problem. Referring to the milk disaster, Wen said at the WEF last weekend: "This issue is not over yet, but please be assured that we will soon unveil plans to boost the food industry. My government and I will lead our people through this hard journey."

While Wen has a well-deserved reputation as a "premier who puts people first", his words may not sound that convincing. Only weeks after the Beijing Olympics, China has witnessed man-made disasters of gargantuan proportions.

More than 250 residents in Xiangfen County, Shanxi province, perished in a mudslide in early September. The accident was triggered by the collapse of the retaining wall of an illegal mining dump containing tons of liquid iron ore waste. In nearby Henan province, 37 miners were killed in an accident in Dengfeng County. The cause of the disaster was again lax regulations and poor inspection. Then came the fire in Wu Wang Nightclub, an illegal, unlicensed outfit in Shenzhen, the boomtown just across the border from Hong Kong. Forty-three revelers, including five day-trippers from Hong Kong, perished.

 
Farmers pour fresh milk onto the ground at a milk collection station in Wuhan. Farmers in this large milk-producing region of north China said governmental safety measures taken in the wake of a tainted milk scandal that shocked the world had been rigorous, but apparent flaws remained.(AFP/File)

Even assuming that party and government authorities are really serious this time, they face an uphill battle in eradicating unscrupulous and malfeasant manufacturers and businessmen in China. A key reason behind the recent spate of scandals is that particularly in the provinces and cities, entrepreneurs and regional officials enjoy cozy relationships. And this is not solely because large corporations are major tax contributors.

Sanlu Dairy Co, the epicenter of the milk scandal, contributed 330 million yuan (US$48.5 million) of taxes to the municipal government of Shijiazhuang, Hebei province, last year. Many companies invite local officials to become "silent partners" in their corporations - in return for "protection" rendered by the powers-that-be.

Former Sanlu chairman Tian Wenhua, for example, is said to be on "comradely terms" with Shijiazhuang officials. It is perhaps for this reason that Tian was given the honorary position of deputy to the provincial people's congress. Similarly, the Wu Wang Nightclub in Shenzhen has been operating without a license for more than a year. This could only have been possible due to what Chinese call a "protective umbrella" proffered by well-placed officials in the city.

Despite the "serve the people" credo of the Hu-Wen administration, supervision over food and industrial safety remains lax and ridden with loopholes. Last year, the former director of the State Food and Drug Administration, Zheng Xiaoyu, was executed for taking bribes from pharmaceutical firms whose shady products were responsible for the deaths of at least 10 consumers.
 
A Chinese baby drinks coconut milk mixed with water instead of baby formula in Shanghai. China insisted it is being open about the impact of milk tainted with the toxic chemical melamine, but declined to make public the latest data on how many children had fallen ill.(AFP/Mark Ralston)

The issue of fake or tainted milk powder is not new. In 2004, at least 12 infants died after taking in baby formula with no nutritional value. The General Administration of Quality Supervision, Inspection and Quarantine (GAQSIQ), which is responsible for checking milk and related merchandise, has been aware of the illegal use of melamine for a long time. Just last year, Chinese-made pet food was banned in the United States because it contained high dosages of melamine.

Inexplicably, the GAQSIQ has in the past couple of years awarded dairy giants Sanlu, Meng Niu, and Yili - whose products were found to be tainted with the chemical - the coveted "famous brand" designation. This status meant their products were exempted from routine inspection by quality-control watchdogs.

The muddleheaded nature of the Chinese bureaucracy is also evident from rescue operations mounted by the State Council (or cabinet) in the wake of major disasters. The modus operandi of choice is setting up a multi-departmental "emergency leading group" to find out the causes of the mishaps and to recommend remedial measures. Thus, soon after the milk powder fiasco broke in early September, Beijing established a leading group consisting of cadre from seven state units - the Health Ministry, the GAQSIQ, State Administration of Industry and Commerce, Ministry of Agriculture, Ministry of Public Security, the State Food and Drug Administration, and the provincial government of Hebei.

This so-called inter-departmental approach to problem-solving has also been used by the Wen cabinet to tackle illegal land-zoning practices, real-estate speculation and other malpractices in the regions. For example, the State Council in early September sent a work group consisting of cadre from several ministries to check on illegal education charges levied by different provinces. These units included the National Development and Reform Commission, the Education Ministry, the Ministry of Supervision, the Ministry of Finance, the National Audit Administration and the National Press and Publication Administration.

The simultaneous involvement of several departments reflects the fact that the line of responsibility is not clear; no one single ministry seems to be in charge of matters ranging from food safety and education to housing and land use.

Quite a number of observers believe that the root of bureaucratic malaise lies in an outdated, non-transparent political structure.

Hu Xingdou, a reformist professor at the Beijing Institute of Technology, thinks that Beijing must take bold steps to overhaul governance. "Every time there is an incident, the relevant department takes medicine to cure the headache. That only fixes the problem, not the system," he indicated. "Now is the time to transform the way of thinking, to repair the system."

The basic structural shortcoming is excessive concentration of power in the party. Thanks to the CCP's near-monopoly of most political and economic resources, there are no meaningful checks and balances within the system. Institutions that could provide some oversight over party and government authorities - for example, the legislature, the courts or the media - are tightly controlled by CCP apparatchiks.

Compounding this endemic malaise is the long-standing tradition - subscribed to by leaders from Chairman Mao to President Hu - of regarding "upright rulers" as more important than good systems. For generations, the CCP has been trying to nurture "virtuous and competent" cadre for leadership posts rather than designing systems with built-in checks and balances.

The imperative about propagating saintly fumuguan ("parents-like officials") harks back to the Confucian ideal of a benevolent mandarin. Mao wanted all cadres to emulate the legendary Lei Feng, the incorruptible, ultra-altruistic model proletariat. Speaking on the recent spate of horrendous industrial and food-safety incidents, Hu said late last month in the People's Daily that this was due to the fact that "some cadres lack a consciousness about their [proper] goals, knowledge about the overall political requirements, a [proper] estimation of future dangers, and a sense of responsibility." The party chief urged senior officials nationwide to "resolutely uphold [the ideal] that the CCP is based on public service, that administration is for the sake of the people ... and that cadres must always bear in mind the safety and well-being of the masses".

An important achievement in personnel reform under the Hu-Wen leadership is the concept of "cadre responsibility", whereby senior officials have to take political responsibility for serious "mass incidents". Thus, a number of cadre either resigned or were fired in the wake of the milk powder scandal. They included the GAQSIQ director Li Changjiang and the Party Secretary and the Mayor of Shijiazhuang, respectively Wu Xianguo and Ji Chuntang. In mid-September, Shanxi Governor Meng Xuenong and Vice-Governor Zhang Jianmin were sacked due to the mudslide incident. In Henan, the Party Secretary of Dengfeng County, Zhang Xuejun, received a severe reprimand while Mayor Wu Fumin was forced to step down.

However, the fate of these disgraced cadre has raised a number of questions about whether the CCP leadership has followed fair and judicious principles in meting out punishment. If the governor of Shanxi was sacked for the sorry state of his provinces' mines, why has Hebei Governor Hu Chunhua escaped censure for the milk powder scandal?

There is also the question of whether the party chief - or the governor or major - of a province or city should shoulder responsibility for lapses. The fall of both the party chiefs and mayors of Shijiazhuang and Dengfeng seems to indicate that senior members of both the party and government should take the rap. However, in the case of Shanxi, only the governor and the vice-governor - but not the more senior-ranked party secretary of the province, Zhang Baoshun - took the fall.

One explanation is that Hubei's Hu, 45, and Shanxi's Zhang, 58, have been spared because of their closeness to President Hu. In particular, Hu Chunhua, who, like the president, is a former head of the Communist Youth League, is regarded as a possible "core" of China's sixth-generation leadership. The Hu-Wen leadership's apparent failure to come up with a laudable cadre responsibility regime is one more illustration of deep-seated woes in the political structure.

Willy Wo-Lap Lam is a Senior Fellow at The Jamestown Foundation. He is the author of five books on China, including the recently published Chinese Politics in the Hu Jintao Era: New Leaders, New Challenges.

Take today's victim friend... He gave me 3 photos. Was he crazy? He could have given me one corner of one half a photo and I could have pointed it out to him. Hell... This guy is so Souf Efrikan that even Mandela calls him boet. I bet you he has the typical 1, 2, 3 of Souf Efrikans - 1 liter brandy, 2 liter Coke and 3 liter Ford. That's Souf Efrikans for you. As easy as 1, 2, 3...

I give to you Koos Baardman (Chuck Beardman)... Oh, he thought he was Keven Bennet from Seattle, but we know he is Koos Baardman from Sonderwater (Withoutwater). But let me give you a bit of background on Koos...

Every year millions of Souf Efrikans go down to the Cape for a holiday. Those Vaalies, or as we call them, Klipkakkers (Hum... Rockshitters...) come down in their numbers. Getting away from the craziness of living up at high altitude. Only problem is that they are the crazy people and they all gather down at our place. And guess what happens? It's the same crazy people doing the same crazy things - but just with a better view. Ja, bleddie Klipkakkers...

We have a few of the farmers coming down as well. Bringing their caravans, sheep and mother-in-law with them. That is also the order of importance. Koos does that. He is a farmer. He rents a place right next to the sea every year. Okay, what he defines right next to the sea. It's about 5 miles in and right next to the sewerage plant. But that's no problem. Five miles is just enough for the mother-in-law to go missing for the whole day. Or whole holiday. And the smell of the sewerage plant remind him of the kraal (enclosure for sheep and cattle) back home. He is from the land where men are men and sheep are scared...

So here we have Koos at his little place by the sea. Let's see what evidence we can find. A bit of a tester today. Try to match the red arrows to the statement of his Souf Efrikan roots...

The afdak... (The lean-to) 

Every good Souf Efrikan has got one. An afdak. But not just any afdak. There are certain things that tells us this is a Souf Efrikan afdak...

Now, let's match the arrows... Join the dots... Check the lines... You get what I mean?

1. A roof made of old blue overalls and stitched together by his lovely wife Ant Bettie. (Blue overalls are the standard outfit for farmers in Souf Efrika.)

2. Leg of blue overall still hanging down the side of the afdak.

3. Old school lawnmower for when the last sheep is on the braai but the grass still needs to be cut.

4. House at the back where mother-in-law is locked up at night. (Just to keep her away from the booze and boys.)

5. Window Aunt Bettie uses to shout instruction like, "Pulls up yor pents Koos. Duh hole nayburhood dusn't neet to see yor builders cleavage." (Proper accent included.)

6. Forest for feature braai wood. It used to come right up to his back door. Yes, Koos likes to braai. Often. And big.

7. Pipe to let the steam out from the "braai". It isn't really a braai. It is a home made mampoer factory. (Mampoer is the strongest drink ever made. And it is home brewed. Not to be used close to an open flame. But can be used as a paint stripper. Made from fruits. Any fruits. We Souf Efrikans aren't too picky...)

And... Did you see the generator driven computer in the background? That's to keep up with what's going down with AA! Fox News for Africa. Unfiltered and unbiased... Hah!

The workshop...

But you would think the guy will stop there right? That he won't give me any more reason to "show him the way"? He did...

1. The stick part of a broom used to poke the coals, chase the bloody dog who just grabbed the meat off the braai and also to flip the dog turds off the grass like a professional golfer. (Was once used to keep Ant Bettie away when Koos by "accident" had an "accident" in the kitchen sink after too much mampoer.)

2. A telly to watch the rugby and cricket on. This is cricket you see because no true contact sport for men will really have so much padding or wear helmets. The motto of rugby players... "Real men don't wear helmets" and "it doesn't hurt if you can stitch it back on".

3. A coffee mug. Koos's favorite coffee mug. He drinks everything from this mug. It says, I Love Mum. Not allowed to be washed, only rinsed, as Koos believes the residue of coffee, mampoer and braai sauce leaves a nice aftertaste. Also known to repel flies from the braai area. And cats won't even crap close to it. (Currently has mampoer in it.)

4. Wooden fence to keep the noisy neighbors out. Especially the mother-in-law.

5. Bag of charcoal. Only to be used when wood runs out or when you need something hard to chuck at the dogs crapping on the lawn but you don't really want to get up from the chair.

6. The "Mampoer Bucket". Used for any type of residue left after making mampoer. From the leftover fruits to the brown and green stuff that grows at the top of the liquid or the yellow watery stuff that comes from you after consuming too much liquid. Once the bucket is filled... Used to kill ants and bees in the garden. And stop the dogs from crapping on the lawn. And makes a mean mix with some ice and a lemon. Not sliced. Called Souf Efrikan Cocktail.

7. Chair taken from the rubbish dump and welded together again by Koos. He made his whole dining room set this way...

8. Big bag of crisps hiding behind the chair. Ant Bettie doesn't want him to eat so much crisps. But he needs his fix. Also used to store biltong when Ant Bettie isn't looking. And spare beer.

9. Huge bowl of dip for the chips. Currently covered in tinfoil. Key ingredients... Onion, salt and the stuff from the mampoer bucket.

10. Grass where the dogs crap. No matter what you do there will always be fresh crap in the morning.

11. Big cooler / small paraffin fridge to keep the beers cold. Always stocked full. Because you never know when the "Big Wind" of '78 might hit you again. That was when Ant Bettie made bean stew and forced Koos to sleep outside for a few days until his "Big Wind" passed. And passed completely.

12. Spare canister attached to braai / mampoer factory to hold extra cold beers while waiting for the mampoer / braai to be done.

13. Tools hanging from braai. These tools are proper antiques and the London Museum has offered Koos loads of money for this already. They want to use it as part of their Neanderthal display. But Koos said his dad gave it to him and he has fond memories of those tools. And he can show the scars on his butt to prove it.

Koos himself...

You think that is enough? How Souf Efrikan can he be? Much more...

1. Neck. Made for playing rugby. Take no prisoners! Real men play rugby and real men have real necks. Not rednecks.

2. Hair shaved for the holidays. Generally covered in big floppy farmer hat. Good to get a haircut once a year. Gets rid of all the things that live there. At least 3 previously unknown species was found by the Nobel prize winning group of scientists who make this yearly pilgrimage to what is known in scientific circles as "The Haircut". (It is not known whether any of the new species will be able to survive outside the Koos habitat.)

3. Fence also used as spare wood for really big braais. It used to be 60 feet long. But then, Koos had a couple of really big braais since then.

4. The bakkie... Like every good farmer Oom Koos drives a bakkie that is diesel and the smoke it creates when you start it can be seen from space. Rumored to have led to the invasion of Iraq as the bakkie was seen as a WMD. But he drove it back to SA quickly once he filled his oil drum (now used as a braai / mampoer factory.) The US never suspected a thing. Oom Koos is good in that way. Or maybe Rummy was just bad in that way. And yes, when Oom Koos drives the bakkie it can also be heard from space.

5. The kraal where the sheep stay during the holiday. Barren because the sheep have eaten almost all the grass. Not a problem because Oom Koos have eaten almost all the sheep already. Yes, Oom Koos and Ant Bettie have been there on holiday for almost a week already.

6.  The towel used to wipe bloody hands when Koos slaughters the sheep. Also used to dry himself after a swim at the beach.

7. The path to freedom. Or at least to the outside toilet known as his "office". That's the right turn where he makes his number 2's. Number 1 is done on the grass like all good Souf Efrikan men do. Koos turns left for his 1 and 2. 1 Liter brandy and 2 liter Coke. The shop is just around the corner. Oom Koos is known to be more inclined to go left than right. It's a natural thing for him to lean towards the left.

8. Braai made from an oil drum. You know, the one he got in Iraq. He cut it in half and just welded a few spots together. High tech for a Souf Efrikan but then, he is known for his edgy attitudes towards braaing. He was once seen braaing chicken! What the hell is a salad doing on the fire? A question asked by the many onlookers. If it's not red it's not meat. If it's not meat you can't eat.

9. Rooster to place the meat on. The rooster (grill) is a key component of any braai. It leaves nice lines across the steaks. Best place to get a rooster is to cut one out of the frame of a grocery trolley. And it's shiny too!

10. Battery backup for the mampoer factory. The clamp is used to charge the battery that runs the mampoer factory. At the moment not on as the braai and mampoer can't be done at the same time. Koos generally empties the mampoer into his mug for "safe keeping" while he braais. No one knows how safe this really is. Not this close to an open fire in any case. Koos uses it instead of fire lighters. No, he doesn't pour it over the coals. He just breathes over the coals. So strong that no matches are required either. The term "spontaneous combustion" was named after Koos and his fire lighting abilities.

11. Tongs used to grip the rooster. Koos is also known as an expert in grabbing thongs with his tongs. The screams of surprise and the horror when they see him can also be heard from space. Koos doesn't mean anything with this. He just needs something to cover his hands when he grips the tongs. They get hot. Unlike the girls he gets his thongs from.

12. Meat and fish pot. Koos is famous for his daring braai techniques. You can see the pot where he mixed fish and chicken together. Men call him names because of this. Names like "traitor", "Mr WTF" and "stupid doos", but Koos doesn't mind as he is a Renaissance man. Just don't call him a maverick... Let me just clarify Koos being famous for this dishes. Infamous might be a better word for it. Eating this dish is not allowed under the Geneva Convention. It makes grown men cry. And get very, very sick. There is no known cure for this. Have you seen the movie Awakening? Now you know why...

13. A red arrow. I just threw an extra red arrow in there to make it look even more impressive. Honestly? I actually forgot why I had that other arrow in there. Or that one...

14. The chain. Some people think that Koos have dog chains around his neck. No, it isn't. It's his keys, tools (drillbits and screwdriver), earbud (he has used the same one since 1984. They always come clean after a rinse under hot water. Or after repeated use), tobacco for his pipe, his pipe, glasses and Swiss Army Knife. Oh, and a can of Bullybeef (Spam/Corned Beef) and a half-jack of mampoer. A man can never be too prepared. He hides it really, really well.

15. Boep. The paunch that you see is the pride of all Souf Efrikan men. Or like they would say, "I work-ad werry hart forr dis boep. U no how mutch beer I hed two drinked two get dis boep? Et leest wurf 40 bucks. Part off my retiremint plen." A Souf Efrikan man without a boep is like having Italy not change their government every year. Or the English not lose against Souf Efrika in rugby or cricket. Or President Bush without a f*ck-up once a day. You know it is possible, but it ain't gonna happen.

16. Rugby jersey. Every man in Souf Efrika must have a rugby jersey. You never wear it on the farm. But you also never take it off when you go on holiday. Including at night when you go to sleep. Alone. Outside. Also never washed. NEVER washed. Wash it and you could be deported and lose your citizenship. Another reason to sleep outside... The smell. Just ask Ant Bettie. Koos played rugby. He was a winger who played on the left. A left winger.

There you go! And who said that KB isn't Souf Efrikan? Hell, he is more Souf Efrikan than me! Seattle is only where he visits for the duration of his lifetime. But Souf Efrikan he is...

Sorry Kev, but you asked for it...

______________________________________________

Who's next? Come on... Don't be afraid. I'll be nice...

©2008 ~motherwarxx

Normally, I stick to poetry or art, but every so often, I write an opinion/article.  I had planned on writing a quasi-xrated poem today, but this morning after reading Angry African's post on racism , I decided to speak out.  So, blame AA for my writhing this post instead of the quasi-xrated poem I intended to woo you with today.  In his post, AA admitted that he was a racist at one time, and didn't even realize it.  I prefer to use the word prejustice in AA's situation, rather than racist.  I think there is a difference . . . He gave us a scenario of how he passed up one hitchhiker without a second thought due their color, and thought about picking up another, because it was, perhaps, "a preferred color."   AA did not say which color he preferred.  I assumed when I first read this article that he gave more thought to picking up the white passenger than so the black passenger because AA is a white male.  But after further reflection, I really don't know, because he is also an activitist who may have felt more passion towards a black man than a white.  I don't know.  I hope he never tells.  The point is, racism is racism.  Why is it that he felt compelled to pick up one more so than the other based solely on the color of their skin?  AA challenged us to look at ourselves and admit to our own racisms.  This is something that we do not communicate about in mixed race situations.   Perhaps it is not PC to do so; perhaps we feel that we will offend someone.  But unless we look our actions and our thought patterns then the cycle of racism will continue.  Unless we selfexamine, we will not be compelled to eradiate these ignorant thoughts.  So I said to self, "Self, how am I racist." 

Racist Act No. One.   I don't consider myself to be racist, but I suppose I have preferences based upon color.  Is that racist?  I prefer relationships with black men; I've never been attracted to white men.  Does that make me a racist?  Perhaps yes.  Because, truth be told, I've never ever considered trying such because of what's been handed down to me by society, family and friends.  Oh, I'm perfectly acceptable of others in mixed race relationships; I have many friends who are married to people of a different race.  But me personally, I have never even given such a second thought.  Period. 

Racist Act No. Two.   Now here is another form of racism I have, similar to that of AA's maybe, maybe not.  I'm walking down a dark street.  On one side of the street are two white men in business suits, on the other are two black men with hoodies and baggy jeans.  As a black female, which group would I feel more comfortable walking past?  Answer - The white men in business suits.  Crazy huh?  Racists huh?  True though.  This is due to what I've learned; what I see,  what I'm told by the media, not what I experience.  My thought pattern has nothing whatsoever to do with the people themselves; as I don't even know these people.  I've never been mugged, I've never been raped.  I usually walk past either without any interaction whatsoever.  So what has given me this ignorant fear that I'd rather past two white men in business suits than two black men in hoodies and jeans.  It's simply ignorant.  And, I have to consciously stop this train of ignorant thinking; because I'm passing on this bull to my daughters and sons, either consciously or unconsciously!   A recent study showed that black women would prefer to pass individuals on the street by race and gender in this order - (1) black female (2) white female (3) white male (4) black male.  The black male is last in the pecking order, even by the black female.  Don't you find that somewhat disturbing.   I feel the same way, yet it is very, very disturbing.  What have I allowed to sink into my head?  What fears have manifested into my belief system?  Wow! 

The Irony of it All.   Now even though I would not  give a white male a second look in the prospect of marriage, I  would rather pass him than a black male   on a dark street!  Ain't that ignorant!  Think about it! 

Peace, Light and Love . . . CordieB. 

P.S. Don't tell anyone, but I thought that Angry African was a black man for weeks when I first started reading his blog – why?-- Because he's an Angry African Activitst!.  I'd stereotyped him too.  One day I looked up and I saw those beautiful piercing green eyes in the header and it was then that I looked deeper into what he was.  Not that it should make a difference, right?  Racism is pure ignorance!  We need to check ourselves!

If you are a narrow minded Filipino who cannot take what other people say to you, please leave this blog site as soon as you can if you don't want to be offended.

I encourage you to have an open mind when you visit this blog site. Think twice before you react.

This is a response to those reports about Filipinos being racially discriminated in any forms. Maybe it be in tv shows, media, etc..

The thing that most people don't know is that, Filipinos are racist too. I had my fair share when I was young & naive.

Everytime something hilarious or some jokes are made about Filipinos, you always get that strong Filipino reactiong towards any comments made about them. This actually goes to a higher level where Filipino officials actually gets involved.

Even with the case of Manny Pacquiao being not credited as a P-4-P (Pound for Pound) King in the boxing world, Filipinos would say that those people who published the material are racists. Even if it came from an unofficial ranking.

Filipinos, I would say are one of the worst racists.

Why?

Example, if a Filipino (especially the old ones) sees a black man walking on the street, they would say, "do you see a shirt floating around?" or, "do they look like monkeys & gorillas"?.

If they know that someones is a Muslim, they would say, "he's/she's a terrorist!".

Some of my African friends were even described as a carabao (a domistricated sub species of the water buffalo), which really angered me. I mean, how can you describe them to something like that? Is just because they are black? Darker than your average Filipino brown man?

Some even go to the extent of avoiding them. Just not be close to someone who they look at as low life.

Tell Filipinos that they are low life & you'll be bombarded with comments about being racists.

Filipinos have that feeling that they are superior. That they should not be treated less.

If someone gives a good name to Filipinos, they are up their, in the heavens, mention something bad about them, you're a racists.

I find it funny about that incident in Desperate Housewives, not funny like hilarious funny. The thing I find funny about it is the reaction of most Filipinos. Seriously, isn't that the truth? That "professional diplomas" can just be bought in the streets?

I think some of those who protested were even frauds. Not real professionals!

Of course, this doesn't mean that my comments apply to all Filipinos. There are Filipinos out there that are truly racists.

Sorry if I had some strong words, I'm not even sure if it's strong enough for you. But sorry if I do offend to some people, but that's the reality of Filipinos being racists.

From: http://becausenooneasked.wordpress.com/2008/08/04/barrys-original-nose/

From Plastic Surgeon Dr. Saia's Truth in Cosmetic Surgery Blog: July 28 Post

Barack Obama - Nosejob?

A Recent Blog Comment:

Since this is a plastic surgery forum. Have you seen Barack prior to his rhinoplasty? Check out the pictures of him while in law school. Very big nose. Wonder if he could have been president with the old nose? He wasn't very attractive then. - Corey

Obama in his youth

More recently

It looks like the blogger might be right. The old Barack image features a more rounded nasal tip. His later images look consistent with a minimal tip rhinoplasty to me. It makes for a more "Caucasian" look. Maybe. Nice pickup.

Best Regards,

John Di Saia MD

Is this the kind of "change" Obama talks about?  What's wrong with a nice prominent round nose?  Or did the cocaine snorting damage his nose into it's current shape?

Too bad Obama is ashamed of his African heritage.  Or is he just confused?  Maybe he needs to continue his journey of self-exploration with another autobiography.  Too bad his nose has changed so much already.  He should have listened to this next song and felt inspired.

No Nose Job by Digital Underground, 1991

Lyrics:

[Dr Cook]
Ruth, send in the next patient

[Chorus x4]
Dodio-doe, there'll be no nose job
Said dodio-doe, no nose job smarter than that

[Baby D/Humpty-Hump]
People say, yo Humpty now that your records is sellin
Ain't it about time for you to be bailin out
Of the race and community you come from
Yo, your face has gotta change, Hump!
Ice Cube says you're making more than Donald Trump
So yo, go on and get your nose fixed, Hump

Dr: Sit down
HH: Wait a minute, uh-uh
Dr: Get in the chair

[Humpty-Hump]
Listen, now the black girl wants to get her lip tucked
She says Doc, I want my slim hips so I'm a slim figure
The white girl says my hips are not big enough
And yo, Doc, inject the collagen and make my lips bigger
All of these so-called celebrities
Sellin millions of records and claimin no responsibilities
A young girl sees you on a TV show
She's only six, says "Mama, I don't like my nose!"
Why'd you have to go and mess up the child's head
So you can get another gold waterbed?!
You fakehaircontactwearinliposuction carnival exhibit
Listen to my rhyme, you need to hear it

[Humpty-Hump]
Uh, and you don't stop, check it
I smell the message from the TV
Does my Humpty nose deceive me?
Smells like the blacker the wacker
Polly wants to be a cracker, if you let her
But see for me, the bigger the nose the better (but Obama doesn't think so)
They say the lighter the righter
Oh yeah?! Well, that's tough
Sometimes I feel I'm not black enough
I'm high yellow, my nose is brown to perfection
And if I was to change it'd be further in that direction
So catch me on the beach, I'll be gettin a tan
Make sure there's no mistake that
Humpty-Hump is from the motherland
Layin in the sun, string bikini
Between the buns of two cuties
Still mackin, there'll be no nose job

[Chorus]

[Baby D]
Come on, Humpty, let's get out of here

Dr: Hi, Humpty. My name is Dr Cook, I'll be handlin your surgery today
HH: Uh, surgery?! Ain't no surgery, said I don't want none
Dr: Yeah, but you're gonna be a big star (that's all Obama needed to hear)
HH: Star? Look I'm already a star
Dr: A huge star, kid
HH: Y'all don't understand, man
Dr: Big, really big!
HH: So what, I don't wanna
Dr: Yeah, get his legs
HH: Put me down, put me down!
Dr: Come on, Humpty, don't worry about a thing, don't worry about it
HH: No, no!
Dr: Calm down, you're going to be fine..
HH: Hey!
Dr: Come on, sedative sedative..scalpel scalpel
HH: Sedative! Scalpel!
Dr: Knife knife, Gauze pad gauze, and gimme a little tape tape
Dr: Okay, he'll be alright..don't worry about it
HH: [gibberish]
Nr: You're falling asleep, Mr Humpty..

But who does really care how you are? Who is really interested in how you feel, what you've been thinking about, how is life for you? Maybe your partner, parents and a few real friends.

So the reply 'I am well if you are well' moves us somewhere further - maybe you don't care how I really am, but I am interested in how you are and you need to realise and feel how you are - and please, let me know so that I can share your feeling.

And there is another dimension to it - Africans tend to be more social as a community than ourselves. We are very individualistic, 'If I am well, everything is ok'. But they tend to depend on each other more - I won't be happy unless you are happy as well.

From this point of view, let's look at success. There is no sense in being successful if people around you are not successful as well. However, what I feel is happening in our days is, that I am somehow happy when others fail so that my success can stand out more. So somehow I am trying to make others unhappy or unsuccessful so that I can succeed easier.

But let's think of our friends and all people around us as a community and that, eventually, if any of them is sick or unhappy, we all have somehow failed.

So from now on, I want to succeed only if people around me succeed and if they are happy. As success these days is understood more in those 'hard data' - money, career, performance...

When you get sick, you obtain a completely different outlook on life and suddenly you feel ashamed for the values you've had before. You don't care about money any more, and your position at work has no meaning to you, either. You feel like you have been mad and senselessly running around to meet stupid deadlines.

When you are sick, everything pauses and you have time to look at life with different eyes, with different values - suddenly you see that there's much more to it - even when you are just lying in bed all the time - and you realise the importance of relationships, purity, God...

Then, success is nothing and you don't care any more. All you want, is peace and love.

So let's all be well, let's look at life from a different angle - we don't have to get sick, but let's live with values as if we were. What is success that we are chasing every day, forgetting about our health, family, God?

Let's be well all together, not just myself and my family, but I am well if you are well.

Thanks.

A few weeks ago, I came upon an article posted on Anderson Cooper's 360° blog, called "Italian Vogue: Black is the new black." It was written by Lola Ogunnaike, as part of CNN's Black in America series.

What struck me before I even read the article was this photo (shown), of a woman whom I didn't quite recognize as being "Black." I was embarrassed by the first thought that entered my consciousness: "But, she's not Black, is she?"

I was less embarrassed by my second thought: "Since when is an ethnic heritage considered a trend?"

I proceeded to read the article, which describes the July issue of Italian Vogue as a celebration of Black fashion models, including Iman and Naomi Campbell. Ogunnaike writes that Black models are rarely preferred over White models for fashion shows and magazine shoots, and that this issue is not only a long-awaited tribute, but it also "reminds you that Black women come in all shades, their hair in all textures and they are not to be forgotten."

I respect Ogunnaike, who is an accomplished Black American journalist and news correspondent. However, I disagree that Italian Vogue celebrates the true diversity of Black women, as the industry continues to limit its praise to Black women who fit within a narrow range of beauty, as defined by European and White American standards. Every woman in this issue is undoubtedly stunning, don't get me wrong, but we can't deny that with few exceptions, mainstream media and pop culture tend to market Black women who have very "White" features, or at least "minimized" African features.

I wouldn't go so far as to say that I took offense to the notion of Black women as the in-thing, the look of the moment, as fashionable, en Vogue--but it didn't sit well with me either. Objectifying women is already a key marketing element in numerous billion-dollar industries in this country. Now, we're talking about objectifying race. Like the Blaxploitation films of the 70's, and the intertwining of hip hop culture into young White suburbia, "Black" has been trendy, and manifested in different forms, in different media over the past few decades.

One of my dearest friends, we'll call Adaku, is a woman of full West African decent. With radiant chocolate skin, warm and intense eyes, and a smile that makes your heart melt, she is one of the most attractive women I've ever known. 

I once pointed out that she also has an adorable button nose, and she jokingly replied, "Girl, this is a negro nose!"

We almost never see women who look like Adaku on TV or in magazines--and if we do, it is clearly without the intention of the media to exalt them as sex symbols or screen sirens. If they are given any roles, they would be the wacky neighbor, the maternal advisor, even the workaholic doctor or the smart-mouthed judge--but not the smokin' hot seductress.

Someday, perhaps, women like Adaku will be the next "trend" in the beauty and fashion industries. Perhaps such a trend will open the door to more diverse representations of Black women, and other ethnically underrepresented women, in all forms of media. Or perhaps, like Sudanese model Alek Wek et al., the trend will be short-lived and overshadowed by the rise of a new generation of White, or Whiter, and more easily marketable objects of beauty. (--JK)

[Image Source: CNN.com]

Copyright © 2008 Jenny Kim, culturepress.

I give to you Amber... Or as we like to call her - Antie Lisbet (Pronounced Un-tee Luz-bet)

Let me first tell you a bit about Lisbet before we go into an analysis of the photo...

Antie Lisbet is the "proper" one in our family. She was born on a farm in the Karoo - sheep farm country. She was an only child. The princess of the fastest sheep shearer west of the Vaal River. She was so high class she even completed school. And studied Huishoudkunde (Good Housekeeping) at university. She was, of course, the Head Girl at school and Miss Karoo at the Town Festival of 1985. (Karoo is a bit like parts of middle America - semi desert and lots of farmers.)

Of course she has been overseas. She has been to Robben Island twice. And went gambling at the casino in Lesotho. And she has lived in the big city of Pretoria since she left the farm behind. But comes back each year during Christmas to remind the local people who the real town celebrity is. Especially since Johan "Three Nipples" Botha died a few years ago.

She doesn't laugh in public. It is not lady-like. Neither does she cough out loud. She speaks to you by looking slightly down with her eyes but she does not move her head. She speaks very proper English. Like the girl from My Fair Lady after training. She never tells jokes or laughs at jokes. She sits quietly on her chair and sips her tea while the men braai. Swiping flies away and frowning at how barbaric this all is. She doesn't call herself Lisbet. She calls herself Elizabeth - the "liza" part pronounced like in Liza Minnelli. E-Liza-Beth. Clearly pronounced as three different names... And she will correct you quickly if you get it wrong. Yes, Antie Lisbet is very proper. She is the lady of the house. We have to listen to her because she is the proper one. But sometimes she has a glass of white wine or two and the farmer's daughter comes out to play...

The first effect of a glass or two of white wine can be seen in the head going down first and the giggles. She starts giggling at nothing. Mostly at herself. She'll go and stand at the fire with the men with her arms around her husband talking rugby and how "hawt" that David Beckham is. She doesn't know he plays soccer and not rugby. It's boys with balls right?

She'll also tell a few jokes. And the more wine she drinks the dirtier and edgier they become. By now she is swinging her glass in the air and poking fun at people. She'll even pick up the kids with the runny nose and wipe it off with her sleeve. And say, "Nah, don't worry. It's just a bit of snot". Her husband will turn into the gentleman and go quiet. He knows that it is time to go home when she starts dancing on the wonky table singing 80's songs like "Mustang Sally".

Of course she will act as if nothing happened the next day. Even headaches are scared of her...

Now back to the photo - Is she Almost Souf Efrikan? Yes... Here is the evidence:

1. This is not a head shot. It was taken at the yearly big town fair where she won the Mrs Tart competition. It's the big cook-off competition. But she didn't want the tart to spoil the rest of the photo.

2. The earrings. I had to fade this photo because the earrings were just too shiny. They are pearls polished by the maid. And Souf Efrikan woman have to wear big or shiny earrings. It matches their teeth. Big and shiny.

3. It is also a very rare photo of actual shoulder being shown. She generally wears a shawl to ensure her modesty stays intact. "Proper" Souf Efrikan woman never shows cleavage or shoulders. It's just not classy. Unless taken with some white wine.

4. Nose slightly up and a smile that can be executed with a flash. It's a natural reaction for "proper" Souf Efrikan woman whenever they sense a camera within a 10 mile radius. Like a lion hunting a springbok or us beating the Poms in cricket. You bring out a camera and the smile and nose automatically take position. It can often be seen on the cover of Farmer's Weekly or the dentist office.

5. That isn't a smile. It is a grin. Because she is proper. She does not cause any "waves". She is grinning because the Mayor has his hand on her backside. (It's also the reason why the tart hit his face right after this photo was taken. But it did not prevent the local press making it the headline story the next day.)

6. Big hair. That is SO Souf Efrikan. It has multiple uses. You can stick you knitting needles in there while you talk or leave your money in there if you don't want to carry a bag. Of course it is "corrected" by using both hands and softly patting it on the side.

Sorry Amber... This might be harsh. But the fact is you are Souf Efrikan. You are our Antie Lisbet. Classy, proper and strict. The one we listen to when she speaks. But also the one that can be wilder than any of us if given the right "incentive" - read "white wine".

Welcome home Antie Lisbet. I mean E-Liza-Beth...

________________________________

Next up - SanityFound. She gave multiple photo's. All of them Souf Efrikan through and through. I'll work on that one over the weekend...

Skuttlefish emailed me a photo of him having a BBQ... Not with gas... And in the rain. I think that makes him almost South African. Trust me. This is the kind of foolishness... I mean dedication... that South Africans are known for. He has South African blood running through those veins. Whether he knows it or not. Whether he wants it or not!

But let's dig a little bit deeper into how Souf Efrikan he is... We know the rain and no gas rules. But just how Souf Efrikan is he? My deep analysis...

1. He has no shoes on...

2. He has three quarter pants on with his keys and mobile phone tucked into his belt...

3. He has more tools for the braai (BBQ) than actual pieces of meat...

4. He is braaing ribs and not some sissy stuff like corn or chicken... (By the way, chicken is a salad according to Souf Efrikans.)

5. He is balancing a drink while holding an umbrella and poking the meat. (And who said men can't multitask?)

That last one is the clincher. He is my brother. No! He is me! It could be a photo taken by my wife - I promise you that. So Souf Efrikan! Welcome to the club brother.

Now send me your photo or story and I'll slot it into your special post. That a threat... I mean a promise. Come one - you know you have a little bit of Souf Efrikan in you. We all do. Loud and proud baby!

__________________

Note to Skuttlefish: Thanks for being a braver man than me. I don't think I would have given me a photo! Thank you boet. You made me realize just how similar we are - accents or not. Just people hey?

Note on being a Souf Efrikan: You don't have to have a drink in your hand. It helps coping with being a Souf Efrikan, but it isn't a prerequisite - at least not for the more secular Souf Efrikans. Just think of something that is slightly odd and not what is seen as "normal" behaviour. It could be anything. From too much sugar in your coffee to wearing your pants too high! Or making too much food when cooking "just in case". To one of those crazy family gatherings. A fancy dress. A stupid hat you just don't want to get rid of. That rusty pickup you drive. A silly photo taken on holiday or with the kids. You buried in sand. You almost drowning. Your mouth stuffed with food. That passport photo you want to burn. The dress your mother forced you to wear when you were six. Anything really. Anything that you look back on or your family looks at and goes - that's just so silly. And so you. Souf Efrikans are pretty plain people. No airs. As straight as you can get. But willing to try anything for a laugh. I know there is a Souf Efrikan in you. Just get me a picture, tell me when/how/where it was taken and I will tell the story! But make sure some part of you are in the photo. I don't need the face (in case you don't want to show that), but I need something to rip off! Come on! You can do it!

But in the true tradition of America, I'm going to change my racial/ethnic identity to fit the definition of what it means to be American.

But first, let me give a little background story as to where I got the initial idea to do so.

I was with a friend, who was with his coworkers and we were all drinking at the bar (all too familiar, no?). Anyways...After about 2 damn near straight vodka drinks, I was feeling good enough to flirt with one of the bartenders. The cutest one had caramel skin, and beautiful brown eyes, but no definitive race/ethnicity. Hell, dude could have passed for black/white mixed, South Pacific, Latino, Arab, freaking anything.

Thinking I'm being slick, I walk up to this guy and strike up a conversation.

Me: What are you?

Guy: What do you mean?

Me: You're fucking adorable. What are you?

Guy: Huh?

My Friend: She is trying to ask you your race...like your ethnicity.

Guy: oh...American.

Me: no...like what before American?

Guy: American...

To say the least, I left rather confused.

The next day, it dawned on me what he meant. Seriously, why do we all spend our time consuming ourselves with people's ethnic breakdown when half the time we can't tell what specific group some people belong to. I know with me, I have people that think I'm just half black, half white; others who think I'm Dominican, and even one guy who asked me if I was Ethiopian.

My point? Why bother defining my ethnicity/race if it is not a defining part of me.

So in the true definition of being an American, count me as all American, since I am a true example of what it means to be a "melting pot". My many races and ethnicities, as well as life experiences with people from other ethnic groups have molded me to be the person I am. I am not defined by descriptive words that have been created to keep people divide. I am who I am, and I can (and do) hang out with who the fuck ever I want to.