EPILOGUE
Winter in South Africa. Yesterday half of Gauteng plunged into darkness. Gauteng is a “place of gold”, plateau at an altitude of 1,700 meters above sea level and home for 15 million people — Black and White, Colored and Indian, Asian, Zulu and English, Afrikaans and Sotho, Pedi and Tswana and many others including even few thousands of Russians. All of us for few hours plunged into complete darkness. Cities and towns, townships and farms, Pretoria and Johannesburg, Sandton and Soweto, Alexandra and Diepsloot, Bryanston and Rivonia. In the complete darkness I’m coming out of my home and now I see the sky in all it’s brightness, I see Milky way, Southern Cross, Scorpius and many other constellations I don’t know …. and trillions of stars. I stay still looking in the sky holding my head high and my thoughts are all about how big is a Universe and how small and fragile is our world.
People in a wealthy compounds and houses are lucky, they often have generators and the water and in winter even with the power cuts they may feel reasonable safe. In townships, though, people live in boxes, tin houses, plastic film huts. In winter it is really cold and they are heating themselves by burning coal in cans and barrels. They often burn down themselves together with their tiny homes. In winter, in the mornings, a gray smoke spreads over the ground and the smell is exactly the same as in Russian long-distance trains, the smell of my childhood, smoke of coal.
Here in South Africa you begin to value life in a special way. Here you feel the vibe of the life and equally you feel the vide of the death. Yesterday, my researcher Moyo called from Nigeria. Her brother was kidnapped in Nigeria a few weeks ago, family paid some money and criminals Just returned him injured but alive so she went from South Africa to Nigeria to take care of the brother… In Johannesburg Rashri’s father was shot in the street, but stayed alive and was taken to the hospital, his brother was going to the hospital to see him and died in a car accident on the way… Lungile’s brother died yesterday — he worked as a security guard in a cash collection vehicle. Attack. Headshot. And that’s all for the last ten days. Some time you feel like the world is plunged into darkness.
Morning. As usual I’m waking up early, at five. The sun has just risen and outside of the window in the garden birds are singing. Thousands of voices. There is a window in the bathroom, the light can be turned off and it is so light. I’m staying under the shower and listening the birds, thinking. With a cup of green tea and plate of pawpaw I’m going out into the garden. I breath in the air deeply and immediately feel the smell of grass, leaves, freshness — exactly the same as at the edge of the forest, when you put up a tent, sleep at night, and in the morning you climb out of it and … that is, exactly. Birds are screaming. Everything that could bloom is blooming in the garden, flowers are everywhere and in all the possible shades of all colors. The sky is bottomless blue, with not a single cloud. A large ibis sits on the fence, looks at me askance and plans directly to the pool. He walks along the edge, looking around. The bird is size of a chicken, with large goose alike feet, a long beak curved at the end, dark with a pearlescent tint. Solemnly walking around the corner of the house and disappearing there.
On the road, boys sell newspapers, crowd of people go from townships to the directing of the city to work. The sun is rising. Six in the morning. Another great day in Africa starts. Life starts.
