Book Release, Rugby, Writing

Well, it’s the big day! And since the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times haven’t had the sensibility to announce the news of the birth of my book, Path to my African Eyes, I have taken it upon myself to do the job. My book is published! Congratulations to me! It’s so weird to be abroad for this momentous occasion. I can’t have the usual book launch celebrations. It has to be said though, being with a small publishing house, everything about the process has been in slow motion, so delaying a launch party may be quite in order. Go out to your local bookstores and ask for Path to my African Eyes. Then after you’ve read it go to Amazon and write rave reviews. All who write a review are invited to the delayed launch party on March 8.


New topic: Rugby. You can’t be in England and not be swept by rugby fever. Especially if you’re either English (Daryl) or South African (me). So Saturday evening I was in London when the match was on. Pubs were crowded and the excitement was palpable. For most of the game it looked like France was sure to win. Then the shocker at the end and OMG the smiles everywhere. Back in Oxford on Sunday I felt compelled to go to a pub to watch the Springboks against Argentina. (Daryl was up in the Lake District with his brother, en route to Durham where he’s giving a talk on Monday). I couldn’t bear to be alone for the game which I was sure South Africa would win. So I went to our local pub in Summertown, a very clean, dignified place with a healthy ratio of men to women, and watched the game. I’d never watched a rugby game before and I have to say there was nothing enjoyable about it. No, actually, I did enjoy something. I got a kick out of watching those broadshouldered, hefty Afrikaner men singing N’kosi Sikelele’l. It was touching, tbh. But the excitement of the folks sitting around me produced a fantastic atmosphere. The English were hoping Argentina would win, and that would seal their victory in the finals. They weren’t happy about SA getting the lead early and maintaining it. And when it was over and Francois Pienaar shared his analysis of the game, I felt proud of South Africa. Sure, we have a long way to go to integrate this sport. But resentment is counterproductive.

I saw my cousins, Angie and Jay, in London on the weekend. Angie just returned from a most enjoyable trip to India – mostly the south. I will be doing pretty much the same trip in January, so I picked her brain about it. We attended an underwhelming South African Homecoming Event in London. The idea of the event was to lure South African’s abroad back into the country. I didn’t learn anything new! In the evening we went to dinner at Peking Palace in Archway – a completely vegetarian Chinese restaurant with the yummiest food in the world. On Sunday morning Angie and I went for a walk on Hampstead Heath, which is looking quite different now with the trees losing their leaves. The weather this autumn has been incredibly mild. It feels more like a continuation of this year’s lousy summer than a new season. I haven’t yet had to use my scarf and gloves and find I’m always too warmly dressed. I’m not complaining, though.

We’re still loving Oxford. Last week we saw a play called “Burial at Thebes” at the Oxford Playhouse. This was an adaptation of Antigone by Sophocles. The production was superb – accessible dialogue, fine acting, and great pacing. On another day we heard a talk a the Oxford Union by Stephen Pinker, a linguist at MIT, who has a new book out. This time his focus is on language and thought. He is a very engaging speaker and discussed the real meanings behind everyday language usage. The funny thing is, when we were in Oxford in 2002 Stephen Pinker had come to town to talk about his book The Blank Slate. We had found that talk to be more dynamic and informative. Nevertheless, it’s always fun to hear what Pinker has to say.

It’s Monday morning and time for me to get to work on my manuscript.

Peace to you all!