The Adventures of Team Parker

It only took me 14 hours since we landed in Johannesburg to realise that everyone at our house is depressed. Sameer spent 12 of those 14 hours playing some slice-n-dicey Xbox game in the lounge. I spent about twelve hours in bed with the laptop balanced on my tummy and watched two movies, half a documentary, two episodes of House, and seven episodes of Greys Anatomy, skipping the boring or irritating bits. Izzy spent most of the day meowing in random corners of the house, compulsively grooming herself or trying to escape into the great outdoors. She’s now retired to her fluffy pink blanket in the guest bathroom. We’re all miserable. We miss home and by that we mean Cape Town.

We miss familiar street names and eateries. We miss popping into cousins’ houses for catchup chats and pudding, we miss people randomly turning up at the house to say hi, we miss being asked to go to the movies or to lunch by people who’ll actually set a day and a time and turn up.

We miss friends who call us “The Parkers” and get the in-joke, who go shopping with us and tell us what size jeans to buy, friends who surprise us with Doctor Who books, who worry about us when we’re sick and send orange juice, neices who tell us they “always free”, cousins who greet us in their PJs and entice us to chat until midnight, aunties who invite us for specially-made crayfish curry, sisters who put extra blankets on the bed when it’s cold, and mommies who’ll make lemongrass tea for Sameer and milky tea for me.

I think Izzy just misses being the centre of the Dalvie universe. We cannot compete, of course.

Basically, today is the day we remember why Joburg sucks so bad.