Johannesburg – where the strong survive?

I was sent an email a little while ago, containing a link to the latest posting on a website called Indaba Movement.

Rather recently I met a journalist and overall cool guy while doing work for Occupy Stockholm, he sent me this email with a link for an update for a website update/post of his site.

He has been to South Africa and we have had some interesting conversations and are yet to have more I’m sure. The different shades of South Africa sure do make for saucy conversations.

Normally I wouldn’t read an email immediately and respond in this way, but he is a credible source and more importantly the post moved me.

In many ways.

A spark went off within.

I began to question what my intense aversion to Johannesburg is, what is it about that place that make us react to each other as oil and water do. Don’t get me wrong, there are things I like and downright adore about the place, but the overwhelming portion of my feeling towards it, is one of negativity, darkness, money grabbing and false hopes.

I can’t describe the intensity of my feelings towards that city. Perhaps it’s the history that lays upon it’s shoulders and therefore the people who have come and gone  from it and the legacy and energy that roam around beneath the ground (influencing our movement) and in the air (clouding our judgement).

Memories of distant missions for gold and money and hopes for a better, brighter, sweeter future.

And then I remembered that I also feel quite confronted by the city, each time without fail,  that it asks of me to give my best, my best in terms of my talents and confidence.

And maybe I’m a coward.

Maybe I am scared of pushing hard in the pursuit of money. Maybe it’s just that.

Or maybe I’m weak. If my circumstances begged me to do what Jeisie Bassie has had to do in order to reach for what he so deeply craves; would I survive it all.

Am I strong enough to stand tall in a city so harsh, so cold and sharp?

Whilst I have a big problem with the manner in which people interact in Johannesburg and the way people become because of this, I have to admit, I admire people like Jeise Bassie who face the daggers daily in order to work towards inching closer to that which they desire or need.

I suppose I have my own countless stories of strength. The questions still lingers – if I were to step into Jeisie’s shoes would I crumble or would I withstand?

**Also I need to draw closer to the reality that money does have it’s place and it could liberate me in many ways and assist me in assisting others. A hard pill to swallow. Indeed.

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