Ain’t no sunshine (in Sweden in March)
Once again, I’m on a fast train in Sweden sitting in a little private compartment with panorama windows. In the periphery of my eye, a silent film is flashing by with a dull, hopeless story of sacrificed dreams and a longing for delight. March is a month of waiting.
Behind my eyelids there is another film with flickering images of warm, white sand and blue oceans. Green wavering palm trees, red hibiscus flowers and golden sunshine. The story is about happiness and life’s abundance, love and beauty. And friendship.
Darren gave me and Lorena a lift to the airport and the hours before boarding we were drinking champagne with our feet out the window of the car, playing reggae music way too load. We were laughing and joking until the very end to keep the emotions buoyant. But just when we were rolling into the airport area he put on a song that made the lumps float up in our throats and out of our eyes…
“Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone…”
My dad wrote to me just before I left South Africa:
“leaving a place that has been your home is like pulling up your roots, but that the seed I carry with me can always be planted somewhere else and that it will flourish in time if I nurture it right”.
Overlooking this landscape now with frostbitten fields I wonder how I will manage to grow here.
But I am drinking carrot juice and eating a sesame seed snack. That should be a start, right? Oh, I must admit, I have really missed the health scene. It is one thing that is good about Sweden. And I guess I can get used to this comfy way of travelling and the high speed internet. But it comes with a price. I had forgotten how expensive everything is here and seeing I was in huge denial to the fact that I was leaving South Africa in the first place, I hadn’t booked any further transport from the airport in Copenhagen. Needless to say, I have already spent a fortune of money I don’t have. But everything has worked out from one day to the next and I managed to buy a SIM-card with a Swedish number, make some arrangements with friends and family and after 3 days in the south I am moving up to Stockholm to stay there a couple of days before I head north to my home town.
People ask me what I will do now. I don’t know. Crash this 35 kilo suitcase in my old room? Eat my mom’s home made beef Kalops stew. Stay at my childhood friends’ houses and play with their babies. Drink black coffee with my grandparents. Run in the forest. Work. Sleep.
And when things get dull and dark around me, I will close my eyes and press Play.