The act of opening your home to others, of making conscious effort to make them feel comfortable and welcomed, of allowing them into the fold of intimate routines and patterns that define your daily life... it really is an art form of balance and thoughtfulness.
My host family, the Wrights, could not be more gracious, kind and conscientious.
I arrived in Johannesburg on Sunday afternoon. The flight was blessedly mundane and to-the-point, while my nerves were on edge and my stomach in knots. It was a good a reason as any to indulge in the free wine offered on the flight.
I hadn’t seen Justin in person for five years. And while the Skype chats, MSN conversations, and emails we have shared over the years offered no signs of awkwardness or discomfort, I couldn’t help but wonder if meeting each other in person was doomed for disaster.
A lot hinged on this meeting. If we didn’t get along then my stay in SA would most certainly be cut short. As I waited for my bags to appear on the luggage belt, I couldn’t stop fidgeting or regulate my heartbeat. I can’t remember the last time I was that openly, obviously nervous.
As my eyes finally grasped a fleeting glance of my red suitcases, I felt a wash of relief to know my bags had survived 4 plane transfers half-way around the world, and immediately following that I sobered up with the realization that my meeting with Justin was now only seconds away.
I pushed the trolley towards the opening double-doors that led to the arrival area, knowing that he would be on my left-hand side. Not sure I was breathing at this point.
But the second I saw his smiling face, everything was fine. He had on an Acadia shirt I sent him a while back and a daffodil he picked from his garden. It doesn’t get much more sweet than that.
The conversation along the 15 minute drive from the airport to his house flowed freely and easily. It was as if no time had passed at all. I found myself chastising my nerves for being so worked up earlier – clearly I had little to worry about.
Yet I still had another hurdle to jump. At his house awaited his parents, Jenny and Peter, and I was eager to make a good impression. After all, these were the people who made the generous decision to offer me a place in their home.
Justin opened the black wrought-iron gate that slid apart to open access to his driveway, which revealed a stunning home with lovely landscaping and a massive 70-yr old palm tree on the right. He “hooted” (no, this does not involve illegal substances – it is what they use here to describe honking a car horn) and his parents appeared through the stain-glass doorway.
The stunning stained-glass doorway
I jumped out of the car and was greeted with warm hugs all around. The best part was when Jenny exclaimed, “You are taller than I thought you would be!”. Ha! I don’t think I’ve ever been called ‘tall’ in my life.
Justin and Jenny took me on a quick tour of the house, which is just beautiful. They have lived here for over 20 years and the love and care they have put into creating this home shines through in every room.
My room was particularly special, as Jenny bought me new linen as well as two luxurious new towels. On the bed was a card which revealed a special note written by each of the family members to welcome me to SA and to their family. I was overwhelmed with gratitude knowing that I couldn’t be in better hands while away from my own family and friends.
That night we had a braai, which is the South African version of a BBQ. His sister, Tarryn, arrived home a bit later on after she had finished her rowing practice, and she is just as friendly and warm-hearted as the rest of her family. We sat together sharing a bottle of champagne and enjoying a feast of chicken, avocado salad, sosatie (beef kebabs), boerewors (spicy sausage), and tomato zudza (cornmeal), with vinegar pudding for dessert. Pure deliciousness.
The next day I met the other member of the family, Patricia, who is their maid and has worked for them since Justin was a baby. She works seven hours a day, five days a week, and is a pleasure to be around as I putz around the house with Justin’s dad during the day.
The only slight issue is that the large window of my room directly faces the neighbours’ yard.
The neighbours happen to be a daycare.
I was waking up to high-pitched, afrikaans-accented screams chanting “1-2-3-4-jump to the right! Jump to the left! 1-2-3-4...” every day at 7am.
Then I discovered how to shut the window.
It is a much better situation now.
My bedroom
Justin's Room
Check out Justin's sweet wrap-around window!
Formal Living Room
...which also has an amazingly huge window to let lots of sunshine in.
Living Room (yes, the fireplace does work for winter)
Beautiful, spacious kitchen
My favorite room of the house -- where most of the drinking, music-playing, talking, and braai-ing (see the black metal stove-like apparatus on the left-hand wall?), happens :)
This is the other view of the room posted above. It has two giant wall-sized sliding glass doors that open onto the deck and pool area. Also, notice the bar area to the left ;)
Pool! The water fountain at the back left-hand corner is made of rocks from their holiday house.
A lovely view to the backyard
Pool-side seating and deck
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This weekend looks to be a lot of fun. Just and I are heading to the airport this afternoon to pick up Roxy, his friend from Cape Town, and then heading to his friend Nick’s home to spend the night. Roxy and I met for lunch last week in Cape Town and she is just like me, but with a cooler accent and blonde hair. We share an affinity for sleeping in late and an abhorition for cooking. So we figure this weekend it only makes sense that the boys get up early and make us breakfast in bed. Right??
Saturday is Justin’s annual Chiropractic formal and I can’t wait. You know me; I always love an opportunity to dress up and get all pretty-fied.
Once Sunday rolls around, a group of us are heading up to Justin’s holiday house, Bushwillows, for three days. There should be about a dozen or so people there and I am looking forward to hanging out with his friends and making some of my own. The only question is: wine or vodka?? Hmmm.
‘Till then -- TTFN, tah-tah for now!
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