#Melville

I’ve been exploring Melville on my own lately.

Yesterday I walked two blocks to 7th Street – the main strip in Melville. I poked around used book stores and gift shops. I bought handmade earrings and bracelets for next-to-nothing at the bead store. I brushed off the local street hawker twice, once on either side of the street. He really wanted to sell me a souvenir giraffe.

The seasons are turning and my second summer is about to begin. It’s still cold at night and in the early morning – especially in a house without central heat – but it’s warm enough for shorts during the day. Today was especially perfect. Crystal-blue sky and about 70 degrees in the sun.

I’ve gotten ahead of myself. I should say a few words about this place where I’m living.

Johannesburg (Joburg, Jo’burg, Jozi, JHB) is the largest city in South Africa and the fourth-largest in Africa. Interestingly, South Africa has three official capital cities but Johannesburg is not one of them.

It’s my second full day in Joburg. I’m sitting on the deck of my new house in Melville, soaking up the late winter sun, admiring the small purple flowers on the potted rosemary plant, and listening to a chorus of bird calls. There’s a neon-yellow weaver making a nest at the back of the garden – it’s a bouncy ball of green leaves suspended from a vine hanging off a tree branch.

Deciding to move to South Africa is one thing. Actually doing it is another.

When I made this decision in January, my first order of business was to uproot myself from a marriage, and a house, and an entire life that I realized I didn’t belong in. There are no words to describe this process, and it’s not what this blog is about anyway, so I’ll spare you the details. Let’s just say it was, umm, hard, and required most of my energy for several months. I think the worst is over now.