Mpumalanga Unrest: Service delivery protests

There is a sense that the immediate area is going up in smoke as pockets of protesters suddenly emerge where they wre least expected. These photos were taken just after 7am this morning at the Waterval Boven tunnel after protesters from Emgwenya township were dispersed with rubber bullets. TRAC was quickly on the scene to clean debris and rocks, to reopen the N4 highway. A lone man and his mangy dog did much more than his fair share to see the road cleaned up. I'm now on my way to Machadodorp and Emthonjeni to find out about the sporadic gunshots and worker intimidation I've had people sms me about. There is a sense of being caught up in a runaway fire that's being fuelled by a strong but invisible wind.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Berry thumbs

Despite two Nokia Communicators down-the-line (and at least four other Nokia devices prior to those), tonight I cross the divide to Blackberry (Bold). The Finnish mobile device company has lost me for the foreseeable future. Apalling software challenges in what was, at the time, supposed to be their flagship business phone has alienated me. They've also left me isolated in a technological backwater with no promise of a replacement in the near future. That water-hosed away what was left of my loyalty. This is most likely my last blog entry from my Communicator. See you on the other side of 'berry thumbs'....

An owl called my name

It's way past my bedtime, I can't sleep; but it's not in a hectic or frenetic way that I'm being kept awake. I keep having to pinch myself at the sound of crickets and frogs, that it's no longer the dead, frozen silence of winter nights. Just this last weekend I was gobsmacked by Christmas decorations in the mall, a sure sign that summer's here. Tonight, unusually, there's a soft, repeated hoot of an owl in the distance as it calls my name. It's the very first, and perfect, summer's night here on the escarpment's edge.

Rain

On Thursday night Waterval Boven got it's first summer rain. It was a storm that raged for hours, beginning at about midnight. After a long harsh and dry summer, the sound of rain on the roof and the slap, slap of blinds in the wind were welcome sounds. At 5h30 Imemeza, the mountain behind the town, was shrouded in cloud. Waking, gulping in deep breaths of rain-wet-earth-summer-early-morning air, it was a thank you-get-down-on-my-knees moment. The makeshift altar was right before my bedroom window. The day before my team had completed planting new grass. Blessings all round.

Today

Sitting in a coffee shop waiting for breakfast and my cappuccino. The afternoon summer sun is just catching the side of my face, piercing my right eye. Although it's now officially summer in the southern hemisphere, inside me it feels like winter and that I'm desperately in need of a hibernation period. Like a snake I want to curl up under a rock and wake up another time. That's how I feel today. My batteries are flat.