People just keep on letting you into things they really shouldn't. I have found that this happens to me in Johannesburg even more than where I come from. I think it is perhaps because I believe everything I am told, and I am told more things in Johannesburg.
Take this one for instance. A new friend tells me that the foreign press corps, something which apparently lives in Johannesburg and goes to a lot of parties (I haven't had an invitation yet, as they probably don't know I'm in town), has been having quite a time recently. First, the Bureau for Information invites them all to a party in Pretoria. It's at Pretoria Central Prison, very near the gallows, and the waiters are prisoners. As if that wasn't exciting enough, these corps chaps then organise a big do for themselves, the Foreign Correspondents Association Ball, at the Johannesburg Sun. One of them – a Graham Leach of the BBC – gets up to thank the guest speaker. Leach, so the story goes, is cross because he wasn't allowed to be in the room when a man who's been in the news a lot was recently reunited with his wife after 23 years. But Leach doesn't stop there: he blames it on the "large Indian attorney" (so dubbed, allegedly, by a British newspaper), who wouldn't let him in. She hears shoot his comments and, according to my friend, demands a grovelling apology for the slur. In response, Leach has apparently offered a grovelling apology for the slur. We'll just have to see what happens. Someone will sorely tell me.
Talking of women of substance, I am informed by another friend that the new prime minister of the Transkei was what he called "quite a goer" in her younger days. It is all in print, too. Stella Sigcau was fired from the Transkei cabinet in 1977 by Kaiser Matanzima, a staunch Methodist, because she was carrying something known as a "love child". She was a widow. Kaiser said her love-life was "similar to the Profumo scandal in Britain", which sounds very bad. Not taking this kind of thing lying down, Stella told Kaiser that by local traditions, the "love child" was no problem. He should confirm this with two males in the cabinet, she said, "for they not only know, but also practice the custom, yet they still remain honourable. "Blessed is the man who has no skeleton in his cupboard," she said, apparently fixing Kaiser right between the eyes."
A friend from my neck of the woods, not yet as cosmopolitan as I am, has become very frightened by a large man who appears on television wearing a yellow badge which says something like "I'm Clive, Buy Me". I told him he's not alone. Because I've seen the gay newspaper Exit. (You will see that I have a knack of tapping into what's really happening, wherever I am.) This Clive chap apparently told a story on television involving limp wrists. "You are being insulting to gays", said Exit. "Look", he replied, "I am fat. I am a Jew. I am called Chubby Checkers," apparently believing that would close the matter.
Very loose talk at a recent dinner party has left me confused. A guest described a conversation between an extremely rich and charming man who apparently runs the South African granary business, and an extremely rich and charming woman who apparently runs the American publishing business, or at least a big part of it. They met in the man's office, conveniently located near, the Killarney shopping mall. The woman said: I really like your office. The man said: Yes, but will the ANC Iike it? Now what can all this mean?
It seems that not a lot is sacred in big cities. Opening my copy of the Citizen this week, I was truly shocked. I turned, as usual, to the sports pages – I check all the results so I'm never at a loss in social situations. Under "soccer" I was told that Dnepr Dnepropetrovsk had beaten Dynamo Minsk, 2-1. Perhaps there is special Johannesburg edition of the Citizen, especially for people who understand this word glasnost. Why else would this God-fearing publication publish the Soviet first division, results? Please, if you know, let me know.
I always like to see people using initiative, especially when the odds are stacked against them. I hear the government of the Republic of Bophuthatswana has launched a brilliant advertising campaign in Britain. It's a sort of a quiz, so I'm told, where readers have to answer eight questions. The really clever part, though, is that all the answers are the same: the Republic of Bophuthatswana. But that doesn't mean it's easy. Try these two, for example. Question 2: Which country was described as being a non-racial state, run by blacks to their own and everyone else's satisfaction, with a hardworking and highly motivation workforce? Question 8: In which African country did Lord Baden-Powell found the Scout movement?
This is all I can tell you this week, which is a pity. I really am chock-a-block with stories at the moment. You can see I am enjoying my new life. And, I'm sure, when more people hear I'm here, life will become what I've heard described as a "social whirl". Let me know if yon have a story to tell. Write to me c/o Weekly Mail or leave a message with my secretary at 337 5350. Oh, and one last thing, there's quite a debate going on about the origin and meaning of a word called "Mangosuthu". Any ideas?
This article originally appeared in the Weekly Mail.
