Staffrider Vol.5 No.2 1982 - DISA

three points lie flat and one points up.
Then you push it over, can you see, and
then there is still one pointing up,' and
sure enough, whichever way it lay, one
point always pointed upwards.
We all shuffled off to the river with
the dry dust of the fertile soil beating
up and hanging in the still air. The sun
shone off the river water as if reflected
off a mirror, the white sand so hot that
it burnt our feet. With a 'Dis fokken
warm vandag,' we pulled off our clothes
Japie leant over to me: 'Is hulle
piele nie fokken groot nie,' as if
I had not noticed before. And I
sat up and looked, but it was only
really Pielietjie's; which indicated
to me where he got his name
from. The others* however, were
various shapes and sizes.
and dived in. The surface water was
quite warm, but underneath it was cold.
A water fight ensued, all of us digging
down into the water to pull up handfuls
of dark mud from the shallows and
splattering each other with it.
Tired and exhausted we flopped
down under the shade of a melkbos. All
our young bodies lying stretched out in
a row. Japie's and mine tanned but still
white in conparison with the dark
brown of Doekvoet and them. We were
all more or less the same height.
Japie leant over to me: Ts hulle piele
nie fokken groot nie,' as if I had not
noticed before. And I sat up and
looked, but it was only really Pieletjie's;
which indicated to me where he got his
name from. The others' however, were
various shapes and sizes.
This was Japie's domain and it was a
privilege to be allowed to be part of it.
Japie was intrigued by the size. He had
swum with them often enough before
and yet it was obviously something
that had not yet ceased to amaze him.
We played a form of jukskei with
sticks until the mountains began to
grow orange before the approach of
sunset and we heard a car hooter far
over at the homestead. 'J ou pa,' Japie
said and something seemed to come
over him and his eyes became mournful
as if he were caught between two
worlds. Like the rather envious remark
he had made about his friends, he seemed
to be caught between the mountains
and the sea and yet unable to choose
one.
A reluctant good-bye was said and
we jogged back 'so op 'n draf.
Outside, the two families were
standing at the car in the process of
saying their long good-byes.
'Hier's hulle nou,' when Tannie
Marita saw us coming through the vineyard,
and Japie became all sheepish and
went to stand on the side, all his toughness
now gone.
She called him to come and stand
next to her, but he refused, twisting one
leg around the other, trying to hide his
dusty feet.
We played a form of jukskei
with sticks until the mountains
began to grow orange before the
approach of sunset and we heard
a car hooter far over at the homestead.
'Jou pa/ Japie said and
something seemed to come over
him and his eyes became mournful
as if he were caught between
two worlds.
'Julle't natuurlik met die klonkies
gespeel,' she said, and turning to all of
us: 'you know what, it was Japie's
birthday the other day and I asked him
who he wanted to invite to his party.
And you know what he said: "Doekvoet
and them." And I asked him: "don't you
want to invite your school friends?" But
he wouldn't. He insisted so much that
I had to have a party for him and all the
klonkies. We had it outside in the
garden.' And turning to him she said:
'And we had such a party, didn't we,
Japie?'
At which Japie blushed and we all
kept quiet as he brushed his hand
through the bristles on his head. •
POETRY
JOSEPH MOLADIRA LUCAS SIGELA
DRUNK AT NIGHT
In that airy night
I staggered backwards
As if to gather courage
And get free from the monstrous claws of drunkenness
I waddled forward with a weakened force.
Losing my path
Like a shepherd behind his disordered flock,
I knocked my head against an electric pole,
Only to relieve my bladder of the burning urine
And vomit the distilled water in my roaring stomach.
Home I shall arrive, that is certain,
Or like a tortoise without a shell
I had to lie sprawled on the pavement
With my bloodshot eyes gazing at the barren sky,
As if I counted the stars
Or beg for mercy from the god of inebriety.
My colleague with a similar disease
Shall pick me up and carry me home.
DO YOU
Do you
understand
When I laugh
It's a symbol
of happiness
And when
I cry
It's a symbol
of bitterness
So when
I cry
don't laugh
at me
Lucas Sigela
Joseph Moladira
STAFFRIDER, VOL. 5 NO. 2, 1982 21