There are a million and one things I could write about this beautiful country of ours that would be all equally inspiring. But be quiet and let me invite you to a magical world. A world where you are on your way to work and the newspaper vendor greets you with a smile, because you always take the same road. A world where you walk to the shop and you hear a whistle from the guy in your street, because he has been crushing on you since you were 15.The horrified look on the auntie’s face that’s going to church on a Sunday, when your music is on blast. Because “child it’s God’s day”. A world where you hear the laughter, from a group of children, on their way home from school.
Let me invite you to a world where you come home on cold winter night and smell your mother’s ertjiesop. A world where you’d rather drink your coffee in the sun, than in your house before going to work. When everyone has layed down to rest, the off tone song of the lonely old man that always stays too late at the bar. It’s the warm welcome at your local shop, where you buy your daily bread and milk. There is a magic in the people you pass by in town. The wind as they rush by you, in a hurry to some appointment.
A magic in the lovers sharing lunch in the park, Pigeons flying around to get the crumbs. This may seem insignificant to others. Let me tell you though, so many people, so many different cultures and beliefs and opinions. But we are all bound by the same magic, the same familiarity. Unknowingly we tread on this land of ours, leaving footprints, magical memories, paving pathways for our future generations. To answer your question. What inspire me most would be our people.
The magic in them of knowing they belong to this beautiful part of heaven created for only us. Knowing we could never ignore the pull of that magic we unwittingly carry around in us. A constant flow of belonging through each and every one of us. This is what inspires me. The people of this country so vastly different, but bound magically together by the land that we call home.
by Marchale R Coetzee