It's not me, it's you

I've had a frustrating few weeks.

People not honouring their promises and responsibilities. Volunteers for Positive Heroes suddenly attaching a price tag. A highly uncomfortable meeting with a professional colleague, in which I was treated disrespectfully and dismissively. A friend not standing up for me. Another turning a potentially joyful gift into an awkward discomfort. The list goes on ... the upholsterer who never quotes, the fencing guy who never pitches, the casual business colleague who mis-addresses a spiteful email and tries to fix it in a 'ha ha-oops, what I really meant was ..." follow up. I'm sure you get the picture.

And - I have smiled and gritted my teeth and made the acceptable, polite, expected response. And then I've wondered: Is it my fault? Is it me?

At gym on Tuesday I realised: it is me.

The last few minutes of a yoga class involve a headstand, a breathing exercise and a short relaxation meditation. This section lasts (tops) 10 minutes. Our yoga studio backs onto the free weights area and there is a loud thunkathunk going on - like a heavy weight hitting the wall repeatedly. The yoga teacher comes back from her foray to discover what the noise is, only to tell us that the guy who is doing it refuses to stop, was aggressive and ... well we will have to deal with it.

Only that's not possible - it gets louder and thunkier and I think 'Fuck It' - and go out. The man hurling the ball at the wall is sweating all over the floor. He pretends not to see me. So I move directly in front of him, look him in the eye and ask him sweetly if he will stop his tossing until we finish our meditation. He takes out his gumguard (who knew people wore these to gym), wipes the spit on his shirt and tells me NO. I won't bore with the whole discussion but let's just say he felt he had paid to throw the ball at the wall and didn't give a shit that twenty other people had paid to meditate inside a studio.

I had a choice at that point. To do what I have been doing these past 5 years and deal. Or to stand my ground. My tipping point. So I told him I wouldn't be moving. And if he wanted to throw the ball against the wall - then he would have to throw it at me. Because I was going to make sure 20 people got their (now) 6 mins of relaxation. He said fine - he would do just that and feinted the 5kg ball at my face. I stayed quite still and pointed out that this would be the most expensive gym lesson of his life. And he moved to throw it at me again. I stood my ground. He shifted sideways, I shifted too. Eventually another guy came over and offered to catch the ball and sweat-boy had to back down.

Enough! If you are out there just waiting to project your shitty: mood, day, life, upbringing, relationship, hangover, manners, behaviour or attitude onto me: I issue fair warning - I am not taking it any more. I will be speaking out. I will be even more frank, more blunt and more forthright than I have been in the past. It will not be my intention to act with malice or cause hurt. But I will say what needs to be said.

Not because you deserve it - but because I do.

A rekindled love

I bought my Kindle to take along with me on a trip to Tanzania. I'd picked a place on the coast, near Tanga where there was very little, certainly no Zanzibari-type tourist stuff. To get there I had to take a tiny 8 seater plane - and I didn't want to lug a whole lot of books with me. Plus Maurits has one and the way his voice softened every time he talked about the device made me think I had to get one for myself. (Hmm just reread that - sounds a little suspect ....)

The kindle is the size of one side of a paperback. It can fit 100s of books, that you buy and download from Amazon. The books cost less than half the retail price in South Africa. And the selection is vast. I downloaded 10 books, a poker tournament game, a word game. Took my charger and off I went. The Kindle cost me £100, but for ease and breadth - worth every penny. I love it - and will be taking it on every trip with me from now on.

Some of the books I read were fantastic. Sitting on the porch of my tiny rondawel, and in my big old zanzibari bed, under the deet sprayed mozzie net: clicking the page turner. The most modern of experiences in a place that was really Africa. So here they are.

The Help: Katherine Stockett

Set in Jackson Mississippi - domestic workers tell about their lives - through the pen of a 23 year old, plantation owner's daughter. Every word of this book held me. There were no bum notes, nothing was off tune. It was a long, well crafted bluesy song.

In the afterword, Stockett quotes from Howard Rainer's Pulitzer Prize winning article, "Grady's Gift" http://www.nytimes.com/1991/12/01/magazine/grady-s-gift.html:

"There is no trickier subject for a writer from the South than that of affection between a black person and a white one in the unequal world of segregation. For the dishonesty upon which a society is founded makes every emotion suspect, makes it impossible to know whether what flowed between two people was honest feeling or pity or pragmatism."

Sums 'The Help' up perfectly. And, if you add Africa to the quote, after South - the story becomes even more poignantly relevant to this country and old wounds. This book is a must read - it's about women and how we think and the cruelties the popular inflict on the not so popular.

Room: Emma Donoghue

A kindnapped woman brings up her son, in a small room. The life Donoghue has created for the two of them inside this tiny space is quite incredible. And then they get out. The real world becomes the real threat. Stopped me in my tracks. Just incredible.

Water for Elephants: Sara Gruen

Easy read about the Benzini Brothers - a travelling Circus in just-post depression US. Loved the circus bits, did not like the bits in the Old Age home. Unnecessary device

I also read - and didn't hate but didn't love:

The Great Rock'n'Roll Novel: Life - Keith Richards

A bit like a 'not so good' Rolling Stones song. You know what it could be - but it doesn't quite hit the mark. Main things I learned are that Keith loves bangers and mash, Mick has large potatoes and a small sausage. Keith loves his wife. Keith loves to play guitar. Keith loved heroin. Best quote in the book came from Tom Waits: "I think nowadays there seems to be a deficit of wonder". Sums the book up perfectly

The Great British Novel: A Week in December - Sebastian Faulks

Apparently Faulks was almost knocked over by an unlit cyclist at night. A device he uses throughout the book to indicate moments of epiphany. I would love to have known what Faulks' own learning was. I can't put my finger on it in the book.

The main protagonist, a genius financier called John Vere, sets about to bring down a bank. And in so doing ruins a banking system and loses hundreds of African Farmers their businesses. But he is so one dimensional, we never understand why he decides to do this. There are so many other characters - too many possibly - and they all end up having dinner together. Though by the end of the book I couldn't remember why. Faulks also comments on alternate realities: Second Life and Reality TV - he creates a gameshow where people with psychiatric disorders compete for treatment, resulting in the predictable tragedy. But even that doesn't go anywhere.

I finished the book for the al-Rashids A couple who had made their fortune from Chutney, and their "almost-was-a-jihadist" son. Especially for Farooq, the father, who was being awarded an OBE at Buckingham palace and thought he would have to make conversation with the Queen. So he hires a complete prat to teach him about books. When all this sweet man needed was to read a couple of Dick Francis novels and to trust in himself.

Perhaps that was Faulks' ephiphany.

The Great American Novel: Freedom - Jonathan Frantzen

I loved The Corrections - all of it. The people, the situations: I cringed to recognize so much of my own life in them. I didn't feel the same with Freedom. No-one seemed real. The sex was just odd, the rockstar a parody, the husband completely unbelievable ... And, as for Patti - couldn't see her at all. The long bits on logging and drilling and birds seemed forced. I still am not sure why I finished this one. But I was relieved when I did.

Next up is The Emperor of All Maladies by Siddhartha Muhkerjee. It's a biography of cancer. The Great Medical Novel