South Africa ~ The Back Story

We accompanied Sara, Jason and Danika to South Africa for a month this Christmas.  They were going so they could introduce Danika to her Grandpa Oliver, to her Auntie (Jason`s sister) Annathea, and to his stepmom Judith.  Oliver`s family were secular German jews who emmigrated to South Africa in the mid 1930s.  Oliver`s grandfather was a surgeon in Germany who developed the "Oppler Technique", a procedure that had something to do with intestinal surgery, I think.  Sally`s family was from Chicago and her father was a doctor also.  Sally met Oliver in South Africa, where they married.  Jason was born in Johannesburg, but in the mid-eighties, when he was six,  appartheid started unravelling, things got a little ugly, and so the family moved to southern California, where Jason spent the rest of his childhood.  Oliver moved back to South Africa when he and Sally divorced and has lived in greater Joburg ever since, with Jason spending summers with him.  Twenty years ago or so, Oliver bought a large piece of acreage a couple of hours west of Joburg in the Magaliesberg Range.  It had a two bedroom cabin on it that he remodelled into a home for his family.  It`s been a lot of work for Oliver to keep the property going while working in Joburg, so he recently made the difficult decision to sell the house and move back into the city.  Not only could we be a help to Sara and Jason with Danika, but if we wanted to spend some time on the family farm, now was the time.  We signed on and bought our airline tickets last February.

 

The Opplers at Mabela Rantjes

 

A Poem to Begin With

 

Lost 

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

~ David Wagoner ~