While driving home tonight i noticed so many taxi's piled up to the roof , with trailers overloaded and, most probably , every seat filled with a passenger, making their slow way to a destination most probably far away.

It knew to raise a nostalgic pang and had me slowing down trying to look into the window of one of the many convoys of over-loaded taxis.

How come nostalgic?

We were considered immigrants and second grade citizens in many of the Germanic and Scandinavian countries my parents and i traveled to.

Even though both my parents were highly specialized in their field and actually sent to work in those countries due to their profession, and i attended some of the many better schools, it made no difference.
U were not local, U were not their kind.

And when my parents would make their way home, i remember, we were always loaded with all sorts of goodies, like donkeys, bringing back wares earned through ones toils and troubles.

There was never a moment though, that i felt i had to worry about my difference and lived in this wonderful world of getting to know customs and cultures that most definitely painted my future world and life.
I knew i was privileged from an early age because, even as an immigrant, i was not like one of those refugees and did have an identity and "belonged" somewhere. It was heart-touching.
That sadness has remained with me in my adulthood knowing what others go through while i was born to another fate.

And then we arrived in SA. And we were disliked both by the whites and blacks.
The whites called us the 'rooigevaar' and the blacks called us privileged whites.
It was quite a strange thing to go through and understand but, i think all those travels prepared me for the crap that was to come my way.

It also prepared me to never think that patience and understanding and empathy and sympathy are a weakness. But rather, knowing who one is, growing up with morals and basic principles of common decency and respect was the order of the day in my surrounding as a youngling. On some emotional maturity is bestowed at birth ...be it circumstance or simply a character trait. While others will never attain it no matter ones age.

Mine was a very cosmopolitan upbringing and i loved every bit of it.
It helped me understand the 'short-sightness' of those swayed by political rhetoric and propaganda.
It helped me understand that a lie repeated over and over eventually takes on the guise of truth.
It helped me understand that people needed to feel they belonged and sort favour at any cost....even swinging left then right to save their sorry asses.
It helped me understand that the world doesn't actually give a fuck about anybody.

But.

it also helped me understand that there is good for every bad and standing in the face of adversity need not mean,being a rebel or pariah.
One need not bite the head off another because self interest comes into play...what that shows is narcissism and egoism and that is where segregation takes place.

Knowing to stand ones ground and evoke critical thinking without being insulting or hitting below the belt, has known to make many an enemy become, if nothing else frenemies and open to suggestion and critical thinking

and

understanding to stand in the face of bullying , in defense of others, might know to bring others around to stand up for themselves. Does it matter the mud slinging? Not at all. U poke a hornets nest u will get stung.

I carried on learning living in South Africa and not much has changed and small-mindedness is still very alive as is hypocrisy on both sides of the fence of the so -called rainbow nation.

Those taxis, i can imagine, are still toiling along and who knows how many corrupt cops will stop them along the way and what they go thru before reaching their destination safely.

Blessed be their trips.

Or...is that not worthy of a Sunday night consideration?


RB.