Post-Plett Rage

For the last few days we have had a semi-comatose post-Plett-Rager lying around on her bed or on the couch in front of the TV. In fact, anywhere that she could drape her body and settle down to catch 40 winks. In between she has been coughing and sputtering as a result of the “Plett Plague” that has afflicted a number of them. The “real” food I made on Sunday, was also very much appreciated as an alternative to the “Provitas-and-cheese” diet she has been on.

But in spite of the after-effects, she has had so much fun. It seems like they slept and partied, slept and partied to the sounds of Goldfish, Jack Parow and many more. The “Rage” was well-organised; there was ample security, as well as taxis and concerned community members looking out for the thousands of post-matrics who descended onto the beaches and surrounds of Plettenberg Bay.

I admit to being more worried about Plett-Rage than about sending her off to build water tanks in the hills of northern Thailand. But this has been as much of a rite of passage - letting her hair down, partying up a storm with her friends and saying goodbye to school books, uniforms and bells. I am glad that she is safe. I had to smile quietly when I read her sms towards the end of last week - "feeling green from eating junk, not enough sleep and too much partying". That was something she had to find out for herself!

Part of the Group

A little while ago I chatted to one of the hockey mums who commented that she did not see me at the matches. My son has been telling me that I didn’t need to come and watch. So off I went a few weeks ago and to my surprise, found a little supporters group of parents who have been valiantly cheering them on all season. (Kind of like the feeling at varsity when everyone assures you that they are not studying and you find them all in the library!).

 It was freezing cold at 800 yesterday morning, watching the last under-14 hockey match of the season, huddled up with other parents on a stand which the sun failed to reach. It was a good game and the opponents were evenly matched.

It felt good to be part of the group as I find that in high school one seems to lose the contact with other parents. I seem to only fetch and drop. It was the same with my daughter, perhaps more difficult since she went to a different high school and he has stayed with the same group of boys from his Prep school.

I am not sure if this is part of his separation from my protective wing, which started with not being kissed goodbye in the mornings, way back in grade 4 or 5. He did the same with the Eisteddfod last term. He was playing his clarinet, and also told me it was not necessary for me to come. I was very glad that I did decide to go and witnessed the atmosphere at the school.  Since he came back from Sweden, I have felt the independence.

Once again I marvel at how differently boys and girls seem to grow up. My daughter has no qualms about kissing me in a busy mall, outside the movies or wherever it is I am dropping her. I hear that it is part of becoming a man and then they come closer again. I guess he is going to have to get used to having me around for another little while longer! I am not quite ready for this empty nest!

All Grown Up

In spite of me bearing witness (with my camera in tow) to the transformation of the past few days (hair, make up and so on) when she put on that dress, the young woman in front of me took me by surprise. 

Of course we were running late and when she came down the stairs all the family and friends who had come to wish her well, swarmed around with camera lights flashing. She looked as overwhelmed as I felt. All I wanted to do was to freeze the moment and allow flashbacks of her taking her first tentative steps or her first day at school or even that picture after she lost her front teeth, to roll before my eyes. All too soon she was off to the pre-party and from there to school, where the dance was being held.

True to the unpretentious school tradition, the matriculants arrived to cheering and clapping on bikes with sidecars, vintage cars, on boats (yes, being skilfully steered by a jeep from behind) and in our yellow beetle decorated to look like a bug, complete with black spots and eyes. The parents were allowed a peek into the "Night in Venice" hall and then it was time to say goodbye. Time to hand her over to her partner, time to let go for the first all-nighter to come, time to trust that she would have fun and be safe.

sneak preview

So here we are the day after - we have survived the matric dance, the pre- and post-parties and life can go back to normal. We have moved onto a new stage, the 18th birthday looms as does the driving test and then, before we know it, final exams. I am steadfast in my resolve that it would be best to send me a "Just Married" postcard.

Taking the Gap

I choked on my litchi juice the other day. I had just popped the litchi into my mouth when someone asked my daughter where she was thinking of going to university and whether she would be staying at home. Cape Town university is a hop and a skip away. She very quickly replied that she was definitely not staying at home. I have been saying for a while now that she is going to be flying the nest soon - what with Canadian exchange and service projects in Thailand, it comes as no surprise. So I don't think that's what made me choke!

I cannot believe that this is her last year at school, though. And the question of a gap year vs going straight to university has been debated in our house for a little while. It is a hot topic. Many people are against their children taking a year off as they think that it is a waste of time and money and that they will find it hard to settle back at university afterwards. They think that it is best that they continue straight on while they are still in the head-space for learning.

We are quite open to this idea but not as a year off to waitress for peanuts in some little known English pub. A year off doing something worthwhile (like building water tanks in a Thai village) or doing a short course and some travelling sounds like a worthwhile experience. A friend's son is spending time in Italy doing an art course before he comes home to study architecture. Someone else I know spent time at a school in the Loire valley in France, having studied French at school.

I think that if you are unsure what to study after school, it makes sense to take a break rather than rushing into a course that you later find out to be the wrong one after you have spent money and time on it. Certainly I wish that I had had that opportunity. Not that I regret studying what I did. But I was young, university was a huge cultural shock in the apartheid era, and I found it difficult to settle in to the structure straight away. There were a few students who had travelled overseas for a year, and you could see the difference that made to their attitude towards studying and the maturity with which they handled university. 

So, like I say we are open to the idea. But I hope she won't be like the Greek woman I met a while ago. She is married to a South African and has settled here now with two small children. They met in the UK when they were both students. They both did post-graduate studies and then married. She was 17 when she left Greece to study .....and now get this.....she never actually went home to live again. I am not sure how I feel about my daughter leaving......forever.

Good Schools

My kids are both at good schools. It took a lot of thought, research and decision-making. We even bought a house based on the fact that there were good schools in the area. Of course, we then chose to send my daughter further afield for high school, but we are still on the doorstep to my son's school and remain quite central.

The woman who has been working for us for a number of years has a son the same age as ours. She herself, did not have the opportunity to get very far in school but is dedicated to giving her children all the opportunities that were denied her. Last year we tried in vain to get him into a high school closer to our home. He then subsequently got accepted at a school in one of the oldest townships in SA.

It is a well-known school and has been around since the 60's. Over the years it has earned recognition for academic as well as sport and cultural achievement. They also teach English and in hindsight, perhaps it is a good transition school for him if we do still want him to come to a school on this side of town.

This morning I was chatting to her and checking up on how he was settling in. I knew that she had been disappointed that he did not get accepted to the schools which were first on her list so I wanted to show her the school's website and reassure her that it was a good school.

She agreed with me and then carried on to explain why she thought it was good. It had nothing to do with the factors I had been looking at, at all. She thought it was good simply because the school was fenced in and the children remained on the school property during break times, thereby being kept safe from harm and out of temptation. Where I was thinking A's and B's she was having to think about his safety during the school day. It reminded me once again how different our perspectives are based on culture, enforced separation and social and economic circumstances. We also take so much for granted once we are in a fortunate place. 

School Choices

School certainly started with a bang last week, with my son doing 11- and 12-hour days. He has had to be at school for athletics practice at 05h45 (which was rather a rude awakening, but makes sense given the hot summer days we have been experiencing). And then of course he needs to try everything out - so had tennis one day and sailing on another. Needless to say he has been coming home, eating and passing out. I have a feeling that I am not going to be seeing too much of him for the next while.

While he is starting out at high school, my daughter is at the other end of the spectrum - finishing off. so she has been doing much the same as he has, but from the perspective of helping the new ones to fit in - so there are many grade 8-12 functions happening in this family at the moment. 

New stages mean choices. My son has already had to decide between taking Afrikaans and Xhosa and also whether he would like to do Music as a subject. I don't know many 14 or 15 year olds who know what they are going to do post-matric yet they are required to choose subjects at this stage which will determine career paths at university or college and beyond at this stage. At the end of Grade 9 my daughter had to make similar choices. She loves French and History and so it seemed natural for her to continue with those subjects. It seems likely, given her interests in community work and children's rights that she could well do something in the field of international relations, human rights or politics. 


But she is not sure and we tried to help her make decisions that would keep as many options open as possible. Her teacher advised her to carry on with Physics which seems to have become the wonder subject - the one that will keep all doors open to Medicine and Health Sciences. Since she already had her two favourites, it seemed reasonable that she could do one that she did not like. However on the eve of her entry into grade 10 she decided that there was no way she was going to be spending the next three years doing a subject she hated and has settled for Biology which keeps the Science door ajar. We reasoned that if she did get to matric and decided on a career path that needed Science she would be sufficiently motivated to do a catch up.

I find that there are so many choices open to children today and there are career paths which did not exist a few years ago. It is so difficult to choose wisely at this stage unless you have a burning passion to be a doctor, a lawyer or have a flair for business or computers. I have just made an appointment for my daughter to do a careers assessment for some guidance as to the next stage in her life. 


I can only hope that at the end of the day, we have given them both the best we can and that they will use all the opportunities and privileges to have a great life, no matter what they do.