homecoming crying queen.

i'm not well right now. i had actually planned a post about how i wasn't quite well after i returned and that one made a whole lot of more sense, but then i got a whole lot worse in one day and the post seemed redundant.

i used to suffer from anxiety attacks a few years back. with the help of some anti-depressants and therapy i got it all under control and the only thing that remained was the fear that the anxiety might return. worst thing ever – fear of fear. actually well, right now i might argue with that.

the break-in really shook me up. i forgot this very scary feeling of having my place robbed and my privacy invaded over christmas chocolates and family drama though. but then it came all back to me when i was at my mum's and actually had some time to reflect. new year's eve brought tears and revelations, not all bad, but definitely not great either.

and then i had to go back, house sit at a house that as much as i love to visit scares me when i'm there alone, face work, and today face going back to my little flat. while that may not seem a big deal to some, it is a big deal to me right now. it is such a big deal that i am bawling my eyes out, sometimes sobbing so much that i can't have a drink from my beer without knocking the bottle on my teeth. the little girl in me wants to do nothing more than take the grown-up girl's credit card and passport and book a flight back to germany and crawl up on my mum's lap. but the grown-up girl can't do that. she has responsibilities and stuff to take of and sort the life she is leaving and the life she wants to build. and as it turns out she is completely overwhelmed by it all.

why i am writing about myself in the third person i have no idea. maybe i need to detach a bit. i really don't want to sound pretentious. i think you must be a douche to refer to yourself in the third person, so i apologize for sounding like one right now.

yesterday when it got really bad i was on my way to my cousin in hout bay and while driving i was trying really hard to keep it together. when i arrived she came downstairs to my car to greet me, something she has never done before, i usually just go up to the house. she hugged me and asked me how i was and when i just started crying and stammering she just hugged me harder, got a friend of hers to write me a script for some ativan while her daughter made me a cup of tea. to everybody else in the house she just said annika is a little fragile right now. no big deal. how much do i love my family where things like anxiety and depression and sobbing for no reason are no big deal. they are a part of life. they are normal and you find ways to live with them and try to make them better. sometimes way includes tea, sometimes medication, sometimes wine and a big bowl of pasta. sometimes you just to cry for a bit. and sometimes for a bit longer and just knowing that that's also okay.

on my way back my amazing family continued to be amazing when i went to my uncle's house to drop of his suitcase he had let me borrow for my trip. i told him a little bit about my afternoon, got teary eyed once again, and told him that i had to go back to the house i didn't want to be at to housesit. in addition to giving me a glass of whiskey – the really good one, so i knew he was worried about me – he simply refused to let me go. he told me i would spend the night, no debating. then he drove me to the house and watered the garden while i packed all my things. in the evening he moved into his office to sleep so i could be comfy and feel safe next to my aunt.

this morning i was still feeling a bit anxious, but also a whole lot of grateful. i have a lot on my plate now and it is okay to feel overwhelmed with that. i will manage. i have support from all sides. and even more important i know that it is okay to sometimes feel like that. c'est la vie.

p.s. i have wholeheartedly claimed back my flat. i bought flowers, sprayed my favorite linen spray everywhere, celebrated the things that got not stolen, and the fact that my basil survived while the nasty vietnamese coriander miraculously died.  

hunger for freedom.

this weekend i felt a bit sad. it started with friday morning when i woke up to the news of madiba’s passing. on thursday when he actually died i was eating dicke bohnen, my uncle’s recipe du jour, and they were delicious. i gave him an 11 out of 10 and he was quite chuffed. in hindsight i would have expected to know. i mean not some sort of hunger games bang, but i would assume something in the universe changes when someone like him dies and that you would feel that change immediately somehow. well, apparently not, i was just happily eating my dicke bohnen and woke up to the news instead while reading facebook in bed. a bad habit by the way that is on my new year’s list to break.
 
so friday i felt sad and i had a full day’s of casting and that never helps to lighten the mood. except when a very handsome runner told me that he was also a swimmer and was wearing a speedo underneath and would i care to see him in that? there were times in my life when i would have taken him on this offer, but as i was sad i didn’t even care. also we didn’t need any swimmers and why waste my time on seeing a gorgeous man half naked.

saturday it was my friend’s birthday breakfast which we celebrated at kirstenbosch and it couldn’t have been more beautiful. i actually took some photos and will slot them in here soon.
 
for the rest of the weekend i was sad again. I am longing for home right now. as much as i want to put all my enthusiasm into my last cape town months, i can’t. i just want to be home already, dark and cold or not. so yes, a major case of grass is greener on the other side.

in addition i am starting to feel stressed out about the move, organizing, selling things, sorting stuff…all the things i am usually very good at, i mean i get paid for this! – it is stressing me out.

to be proactive i decided on an early shopping marathon on sunday and i must proudly say that i now have 75% of all gifts and i got them in less than two hours. afterwards i was knackered. how i used to shop for a living in new york i do not know.

by the way if you are still looking for a great gift for a food fan, i can highly recommend hunger for freedom by anna trapido. i saw her a few years back at the toffie food festival where she presenting a somewhat interactive journey through madiba’s life via the food he used to eat and the stories about it. some stories funny, some sad, some yummy, some thought provoking, all incredible moving. i must admit that the book has been long on my i want to have and i want to give lists, but in light of recent events it seems especially timely to remind of an incredible man who even has incredible tales to tell about the food he ate.

a kingdom for the dragon slayer.

after i have roared, i did cry, a lot, and now i have moved on to inappropriate jokes and thoughts. if you are easily offended, you may want to skip this post. but then i don't know how you got here in the first place.

i am at the airport, trying to drink as many double g&ts before i board. i'm sitting here with my new pink memory foam pillow around my neck. my dad is having an emergency heart surgery and i'm flying home. whoopsie.

the surgeon is one of the best and he is close to my family. in fact back in the day he wanted to go out with me. i didn't want to for some silly reason or other i can't remember now. in fact i can, but i won't tell you for fear of someone yelling at me. ups.

my brother reckons if all goes well, i owe him a date after all. i agree and guess it's the modern day version of slaying a dragon for a girl.

on a more serious note i guess it is ideal worst case scenario. a personal mcdreamy for my dad. which doctor gives you his cell phone number and direct line to the theatre?

trying to pack when you to travel into the unknown, trying to keep the tears and the thoughts in check, is a tricky one. we all know that packing is a bitch at the best of times.

i'm wearing my leopard pants, not sure if this is appropriate. but then i will be at least easily recognizable as the 'daughter from africa'.

i thought about bringing my camera. after all i'm going to a city in germany i have never been too. can one do sightseeing on such occasion? i left it at home. iphone will have to do. i took my little blue backpack though. it reminds me of happier travel occasions.

i packed a small bag, the lady at the airport even asked me if i was sure i wanted to check it. yes, i am, i have shampoo. fuck. yes, you can buy shampoo in germany, but as i said packing is a bitch and i wasn't thinking clearly.

i had a lot more sarcastic and funny thoughts before i got here and started writing. now all i can do to not think about my dad is to wonder whether air france has really nice wine. they better.

the news.

i’m telling you my news today. you may or may not care and that is entirely up to you, but i am quite excited.

i told my uncle last night and he was sort of the last hurdle beloved that i had to tell in person before putting it in writing. if i haven’t told you in person, please don’t be upset with me, it doesn’t mean that i don’t love you, it simply means that i am less scared of you than i am of my uncle. i was very scared he would yell at me. or even worse not speak to me at all. so before i started telling him, i made him promise.

me: promise that regardless of what i tell you now that you will not not speak to me anymore.
uncle: who are you marrying?
uncle: are you marrying insert name of hated ex-boyfriend here?
me: noooo!
uncle: okay, then i promise.

here is the big news: i am moving to hamburg next year.

eeek.

there i said it. i wrote it. it’s on the internet. which is the 21st century version of putting something in stone, isn’t it?

you ask why? of course you do. here you go:

faq as to why annika is leaving beautiful, sunny cape town and moving to hamburg which is known more for its fish rolls and drizzling rain. (not that there is anything wrong with fish rolls!)

q: when did you make this decision?
a: three and a half weeks ago after a sunday afternoon nap dream about hamburg.

q: is that when you make your important decisions? after a nap?
a: the value of naps is completely underrated. i believe in their powers and make most of my important decisions either during nap time or when i’m in the shower. restaurants should come with beds or showers, because it takes me forever to decide what i want to order.

q: but don’t you like cape town?
a: i love cape town! but sometimes love is not enough.

q: didn’t you always say that cape town was your home?
a: i did say that, but in the end it actually isn’t my home. i can’t even say drol in die drinkwater properly and i don’t like rugby. i also got into an argument once with an ex when he wanted to buy a small braai and put it on my balcony. i thought that was silly as i have a perfectly fine stove and good frying pans.

q: during your last christmas holiday in germany you were not only sick, but also depressed – how will you manage?
a: that’s why i’m planning to move in summer, so i can ease into it. also i will tell my dad to make something else than oily beans for christmas lunch so i won’t get sick again.

q: still…why are you moving?
a: besides the nap dream? i read this lovely story from natasha. she had just gotten robbed in her sleep and could still find such comfort in the fact that she is south african and how she loves her country, her home. i thought that was beautiful, but i realized when it comes to south africa i can’t relate.

q: have you tried?
a: yes, i have tried a lot. for six years in fact. but it has been hard, so now i want to live in a place where maybe relating for me is a bit easier.

q: what are you going to do in germany?
a: besides dancing a whole night on the reeperbahn and eating a fish roll for breakfast? okay, in no order of importance:
play uno with my nephew.
have my brother cook me dinner.
meet marie’s baby girl.
play with marie’s baby girl.
fly to paris for a weekend to eat all the macarons at ladurée.
bring back more macarons to eat with julia.
actually, scratch that.
i’d fly to paris with julia and eat all the macarons at ladurée together.
eat joey’s pizza and paint my nails red with xenia.
do bikram yoga every day.
be home for my dad’s birthday and finally clean up the attic.
have carnival in cologne again.
get an awesome job. or work freelance. or start my own business. just because i can.
drink rhubarb juice. with the good aldi champagne.
have my mum make me the original poor man’s meal.
finally fly with ryanair. to barcelona and rome and morocco and london (ash!!!).
shop at cos. and buy some prada shoes.

the list could go on and on.

q: but won’t you miss cape town?
a: i will miss cape town terribly. and if i were to put together a list of things i love and like doing here it would be just as long.

q: then why do you go?
a: you have asked that before. i am simply a bit stuck here. i need a new adventure.

q: i don’t like it.
a: that’s not a question and you don’t have to like it. everybody who is important to me likes it or at least understands and supports my decision.

guys, if you think this was a weird post you are probably right and i apologize. i can’t really put it all into one coherent string of thoughts yet, at least not in writing. as i have mentioned before my head is swimming these days with the magnitude of my decision and how i will make it all happen and how much i will miss cape town and the questions of am i freaking crazy? and should i take my pizza shovel with? go around in my head. so that is why this post is what it is and the answers to those last questions are probably yes and yes. i will leave as such for now.

between worlds.

i have almost been back home for a week. it feels like forever and like i just got off the plane at the same time.

i don’t have proper post-holiday blues, but i’m not really here either.

 i’m still so cold all the time and yesterday i complained about my melissa’s cappuccino for 10 minutes. what is the point of drinking coffee without any sweet condensed milk?

my first yoga classes teaching were lovely, but i just want to stick my tongue out at my own mat.

some of my friends were incredibly sweet and welcoming, but i also had an incident with someone i deeply care about that had me work on my don’t judge other people skills overtime.

when i was away coming home seemed wonderful. now being home is just okay.

my aunt and uncle both mentioned that my last posts from vietnam sounded sad. did it? was i sad? i actually don’t know, i don’t think so. my holiday was absolutely fantastic, but i think at times i felt it was all a bit overwhelming and now i’m trying to process it all and acquaint myself with the concept of home again at the same time. so therefore i’m still feeling overwhelmed.

yesterday i took a nap and i had one of these funny reality dreams. boy, that dream got me thinking…thinking and wondering if my world is becoming once again a bit too small for me. not that anything came out of all the thinking, except that it scared me a bit and made me feel even more in between worlds.

sorry. none of this is very coherent and since my airbook is still sick i don’t have the possibility to make it up to you and write a proper travel post. i will as soon as i have it back (and i have caught up on all the series i’ve missed), pinkie swear. but in the meanwhile my first and proper post about cambodia is out on travelletes, so check it out here and bear with me while i’m trying to sort out my life.

mozzies or not i wish i was back here just eating coconut ice cream. 

 

 

back!

i’m back and all i can really think of is how cold i am. other than that my first 18 hours have been peachy. customs didn’t steal confiscate my rice paper and the customs dog didn’t detect my curry powder which i got for my mum. probably because he was tired from all the fetch he played before cape town airport managed to get the luggage belt moving, you can imagine that took a while.

 

my lovely friend claire fetched me and didn’t mind my request for a bottle of red wine to be brought to me upon arrival. in fact she had put two bottles in my house and cheese crackers and chocolate and roses and gotten my solar powered fairy lights to work and back up on my balcony. she also took me grocery shopping and made me my first bowl of pasta i had in a month while i unpacked and took a shower. now that is my definition of a good friend. thanks, love!

 

after sleeping 9 hours i’m almost feeling like a normal person today and have managed to bring laundry to the laundromat, make a shopping list, go to work, taken the contents of my luggage out and spread out all over my place - wouldn’t want it looking too tidy - and even glanced at my credit card statement, which i think was a very brave thing to do only one day after the holiday was over.

 

i have also started to make plans for yoga, seeing friends, talking to my mum, and going to some events, so i don’t think i will be too sad. i will miss the humidity and the lovely food a bit, because and though you may hate me for saying it – i lost weight despite eating 3 meals a day and all the pringles. but don’t you worry because i expect to be back to normal in no time as the best part about being home is eating pasta and alphen toastie from jason.

 

the one unfortunate thing is that my airbook got sick on the way back and has to go to the doctor tomorrow. bleh. let’s hope for the best, because i need to share a ton of pictures with you and stories of how i “taught” yoga on a junk in halong bay, how the pastaholic didn’t want any noodle soup for breakfast, and how the duck got run over by a motorbike. but until the airbook gets better that will all have to wait and so for now i leave you with a picture of the most awesome thing anyone could ever put on a motorbike - the flying pigs:

 

 

An unwelcome welcome.

I kind of knew I would like Morocco. However I didn’t know it would exceed any expectations I could have ever had. Thus I am now suffering from major post-holiday depression and when you see my face you would assume I had to return home to Detroit* not beautiful Cape Town. Partly this face is due to the fact that my travel agent messed up my return flight, resulting in yet to be refunded credit card charges of R 16 000 for a new ticket. Though to be quite honest that was only the cherry on top and I don’t think my face would be any more cheerful without this incident.

You ask why? Well, for once I am flippin’ freezing. Morocco was an average of wonderful 40 degrees during the day and you can imagine how I just loved that! I also haven’t had mint tea in over 24 hours or nos nos and by now the cravings are in full swing.
Of course I made myself welcome back pasta last night as I have only eaten pasta once in the entire two weeks (can you actually believe it?!), but it tasted really bland in comparison to a Kefta Tagine. On top of it all my washing machine broke, which must be truly one of the worst things that can happen upon returning from a trip. In an attempt to make myself feel better I went onto my balcony in the hope of hearing the sunset call to prayer, but no, all I could hear was some bergies yelling on the street. Welcome home indeed.
The list could go on and on, but in an attempt of more positive thinking I will stop right here and rather go and drag my washing to the laundromat. I shall also sort through my 1001 pictures so tomorrow I can actually start to tell (and show) about the adventures in Morocco, the land of donkeys, kittens, and perfect Bikram temperatures.

I also should add that many lovely people have welcomed me back; telling me it’s good to have me home. And though I can’t share this feeling yet, the sentiment is much appreciated – thank you, my friends!

* I have actually never been, but I just picture it really…well, dingy and sad. Sorry, if you are from Detroit and feel insulted now. If I ever go, I am sure I will change my mind and you shall receive an official apology then.

This and that and a bit of Gin.

Last night I had black tea after dinner because I was out of peppermint and as a result I couldn’t sleep. I came up with a whole lot of new story ideas, but in daylight none of them are all that appealing. I seem to have fallen into a bit of a post Zambia slump with nothing all that appealing. Not even the prospect of Morocco, only three weeks away, can pull me out. In fact it just reminds me that I haven’t brushed up my French as I should have. All I want to do is sleep and eat chocolate or cake or chocolate cake (yes, there might be a bit of PMS – which is short for Prepare to Meet Satan according to Twitter - in the mix too), and shop. Which I can’t, because I just got permission

…a little exited drumroll here…

to book a ticket to go home for the holidays and am now officially broke!

Just to clear one thing up, my German friends, holidays means Christmas & Co. Holidays does not mean August. Here I put it on paper in black and white, because yesterday I think I upset my little cousin lots as she thought holidays equals August which would thus mean I’d be home for her wedding. Which, unfortunately I won’t be. The unfortunately is small because as you may know I will be in Morocco so as much as I hate missing her big day, I cannot be too upset due to my self-chosen exile in form of a camel and a desert camp.

Yes, I know, especially after putting it on paper like this, life is not bad at all. I just haven’t slept well lately thus I am permanently a bit grumpier than usual and also I haven’t been on a yoga mat for a week. Ups. I feel doubly bad for this as my friend Jess deemed me worthy for a yoga & wine interview. She asked me yoga questions, I gave her wine answers. Read it here, apparently I’m funny and wise though I have no idea how that happened.

On another very random note: I am officially a big fan now of Gin infused slush puppies (Adam’s wording not mine) at the Labia. Though too much might not be good for my temper as I almost hit a loud popcorn eater over the head with my cup. Then again how loud can you get to eat your popcorn and Claire told me afterwards that she also turned around and gave him a stern look. Unsuccessful due to movie theatre darkness which swallows all stern looks and eye rolls, lucky for the receiver.

I know, this all getting very incoherent and I do apologize for it. I think in addition to lack-of-sleep tiredness I am also slightly fatigued due to hunger now. Will go eat and write a proper story for you tomorrow…

Home, rainy home.

I’m back. Sorry for the silence, but the internet at the lodge in Livingstone was no good and I probably would have ended up throwing my Airbook in the swamp with impatient frustration if I tried to blog more. I simply gave up after the first day and rather enjoyed the time without electronics. Now that I am back you are in for a treat though. I will tell you about the lunar rainbow and the time I padded a lion, how we saw a herd of 20 elephants at our camp, danced with the local kids, and planted 800 trees in one day. Tomorrow though. Today I am indulging in feeling sorry for myself…vacation time is over, Cape Town is sinking, and I think my ex has a new girlfriend, which is just not good news ever on a Monday.
So till tomorrow I will leave you with some glimpses of THE best week ever:

Baby twin lemon trees.
Shot of the day - volleyball match at the Livingstone sports club.
Post match dancing with the boys.
The trees are sharing a ride with us on the party bus.
Appropriate 2nd breakfast snack - mango & passionfruit giraffe.
Fully grown magic tree Faiherbia Albida at Songe Village.
Nshima lunch leftovers.
Soraya chewing on her own tail.
"Tentie" Micah and me on the Zambezi booze cruise.
Bestest drink ever after a day of planting (or chilling in this case) - local Mosi beer.
Where the rainbow lives.
Baby cat at the Vic Falls and its toy - a salamander.

California dreaming a la German.

Cape Town is measly at the moment, even when it’s not raining. Or so it seems to me, which is usually a sure sign that I’ve got travel fever. Increased dreams about the Seychelles are another indicator. In my dream we took a boat from the V&A and just nipped over for a day trip. How awesome would that be? I think my dreams are on a roll these days, first James Bond, now secluded island..it’s all coming together nicely in Lalaland.
Though if I’m very honest, all I want to do is finally go on my trip back home. I guess I have a combination of wanderlust and homesickness and it got so bad that I allowed myself to daydream a bit this morning and started a must-do list in my head.

Bad Honnef
· Sit with my mother at her dining table, drink white wine and talk yoga. Great combination especially since I tend to get much more flexible after 2 glasses. I also love the fact that I must have the only mother who allows feet on the table as she tends to do the same. *
· Drink Kölsch at ‘The Island’ beer garden. The best thing that the little town has to offer. Can’t describe, will show pictures after (If I remember to take some...the usual problem with me and the camera.) The Island that is, Kölsch pretty much tastes the same anywhere.
· See all my new nieces and nephews. I think my family has quadruplet yet again in the last year.

Hamburg
· Spend a night on the Kiez and come only home when it’s already light out.
· Bribe Jakob with ‘fussi’ playtime to let me sleep in afterwords, but end up doing early morning yoga with him anyhow.
· Drink lots of ‘Lokole’ (Short for chocolate, which actually stands for something sweet, but means the adult version = champagne) with Xenia and Stephan.

Berlin
· Attempt to actually get some art and culture in for a change, but probably end up shopping.
· Shopping. I can also put that on the list officially and unashamed on its own.
· Spend a night out on the Berlin equivalent of the the Kiez and come only home when it’s already light out.

Bad Hersfeld
· Festspiele. See a play and dwell in nostalgia about the times I was dressed up like a maid and fought on stage with Katrin.
· Raspberry picking – the only household activity I ever volunteered to do.
· Sitting outside on the terrace with my Dad, having him tell me old stories about my grandparents & co. This time I shall remember to record them.

Frankfurt
· One Saturday with Nele.

That’s the plan and I’m sticking to it. Additional ideas obviously welcome as long as they include food, drinks and/or shopping. Obviously combinations of all three get preferential treatment.

For now back to measly Cape Town; will put a smile on now and try to make it a smashing weekend!

*When I told my mother about this, she said I must please make sure to mention that she only puts her feet up in her own house, never in public.