MONDAY, 10 DECEMBER 2001
“It’s strange, but sometimes I don’t feel like talking about my life. And it’s not because it’s not going well, because at the moment I’m actually doing better than at many times in the past. I’ve met a lot of people from South Africa recently – both new arrivals and people who’ve been here for a while. But writing about it or telling people about it makes me feel like I’m giving regular reports about my life. Like it’s unusual that I would do things that might be enjoyable, or that it’s necessary to report that I had met new people.
This reluctance doesn’t only apply to good friends; I do the same thing with my family. They would ask me for news, and I’d see the images in my head of me having a good time with people, and going places and doing things, but then I’d reply a second later that I don’t really have any news, and that everything is going as usual. Strange, isn’t it?
I’m also quite busy again on the teaching front. A lot of those cheap contract teachers have left, so schools are suddenly in need of replacements. I’m going home for two weeks at the end of March, and I’m planning to return for another year or so …”
~ From an email to a friend
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