Oh, South Africa my land. "The immigrant". Always wanting to go home.

I was born near Johannesburg, in South Africa and I love to say that I lived on a gold mine. I did. Tunnels ran under our homes, where my grandfather, Cornelius Eloff, worked as a gold miner. I do not live there anymore - sad to say. More than 20 years ago, I immigrated to Vancouver in Canada. I did not really know what I would lose. Family. Friends. Laughter. Oceans. African animals. Living on a gold mine.

I saw a bright future in a safe country with a stable economy. Did I get that? Yes. But what I lost—everything. In my genes, I was born Africa. Yes, a white African but I love Africa with my soul. I miss the African ocean. I miss the beaches of both the Indian Ocean and the Pacific. As a child I would swim for hours in the warm water of the Indian Ocean and I long for the beauty seen from Table Mountain in Cape Town.

South Africa is so far away from Canada. Such a small country. My home, my land. Complicated.

I miss the animals. I grew up not knowing how precious this is. My early memories are of days in Kruger National Park at daybreak. We would be in our car and the lions would lie in the middle of the road feasting on their kill—a giraffe. Hyenas and vultures would already sit and wait. We would sit in the car and wait for the fight between lions, the hyena sneaking in to grab something to eat. A jackal would creep closer.

I miss sunset and sunrise. I miss thunderstorms.More than all of this, I miss my people. Oh, we are complicated. But, we laugh. We make the silliest jokes about the most serious of situations.
I want to go home.
Instead, I will go and water the carrot seeds in my Canadian summer garden, feed the birds, and I will pick a bunch of roses to put in my house.
My love for my garden comes from my grandmother, Olga, and my mother, Rhoda. I will put the roses in my house and remember that I had a fortunate beginning to life. I am African. South African. From this I draw strength for every day.

Images: Google.