Yesterday Anon asked me about living in Westville, and I thought I would dig up this ancient post and repost it because I am
This is a memoir of the countless summer holidays spent in the suburb I had the delight of growing up in: West-vile, Durban (that's in South Africa, if the blog name didn't give you a clue). I spent at least ten years there.
There is no such thing as public transport in the outer Durban suburbs (well, none for small white children), so you are trapped. And if your parents don't take you places, there is NOTHING to do.
Westville is near the sea, about a 20 minute drive; we could see it. I went to the sea roughly once a year. Vaalies went to the sea more than me. I now have an obsession with living by the sea, after years of deprivation while it was staring me in the face.
There is no such thing as public transport in the outer Durban suburbs (well, none for small white children), so you are trapped. And if your parents don't take you places, there is NOTHING to do.
Westville is near the sea, about a 20 minute drive; we could see it. I went to the sea roughly once a year. Vaalies went to the sea more than me. I now have an obsession with living by the sea, after years of deprivation while it was staring me in the face.
Things to do in Westville when you are young and bored:
-Count monkeys.
-Count mosquito bites.
-scratch mosquito bites.
-scratch mosquito bites.
-kill mosquitos.
-chase hadedas.
-Swim until you cannot see and your body requires botox.
-hope that a snake appears in the garden - something to be excited about for 10 minutes.
-Read a book. Hell, read the entire Westville North library. Then move onto Westville Central.
-Walk up one of the mighty hills that plague the landscape. My favourite was Pitlochry road. Especially in the summer humidity, yeah.
-Walk to a shop to buy sweets. This entailed me walking for like 40 minutes up the aforementioned hill. It was not an expedition to be taken lightly. The sherpas cost a fortune.
-run around in one of the humungous storms and get soaked. This is probably my best thing.
-Rollerskate around on the pavements.
-Watch Aladdin and Beauty and the Beast once a day, and recite the entire script.
-Wave to cars driving by.
-Fight relentlessly and mercilessly with siblings.
-look at the sea.
-Shop at the Pav. Or in my case, walk around the bloody Pav until you want to die, but since you have no money, you are really just torturing yourself in numerous subtle ways. Pretend you are buying perfume and try every sample, so that you smell like a flower farm. Then you have to wait while your mom shops in Pick n Pay, which takes two hours longer than she thought.
That's about it really, the sum of my summer holidays. Bring on school, I was saying. I am starting to understand why I live in my own head.
