Megalen Govender says he is proudly South African despite complaints people have about our country.
I am classified as a South African Indian. More often than not, people believe that my culture is very similar to that of my forefathers who originated from India. This is not the case, in fact, nothing could be further from the truth.
When I was younger, I visited India on a holiday with a mission to find my roots and trace back my lineage. I found that I have never felt more like a foreigner than when I was in India. The cultural practices, the daily lifestyle and even the habits and way of dressing are completely different from my own. The indigenous Indian population knew that I was a foreigner from a mile away because my differences made me stick out like a sore thumb. It made me think of an old Japanese saying which, loosely translated, is “The nail that sticks out gets hammered.”
During my stay in India, amid the beauty of the place, I found that I do not see myself as an Indian. I do not see myself as a South African Indian either. I see myself as South African. My race group, to me, is South African.
In South Africa, we are still addressing the issue of race and culture and we will probably continue to do so for years to come. I am a South African. Statements that double up as greetings like “Aweh” or “Whatkind” are uniquely South African turns of phrase that all cultural groups use on a daily basis without realising the true power that these simple colloquial phrases hold. They are terms that we all identify with and understand in the multiple contexts of their usage.
When I visited London, amid being surrounded by distinct British accents, I found my South African accent becoming ever more pronounced. When I reflect on this, I realise that when surrounded by a world that is foreign and new, I dug even deeper and held on even tighter to my identity. I am a South African.
I had an amusing moment when I walked into a local supermarket in London to purchase airtime for my mobile device. Upon paying for the airtime and receiving my goods, I graciously told the cashier, “Shot bru!” At home in South Africa, I would have been given a smile or a little nod for showing such courtesy. In London, the cashiers eyes widened in fear and he put both his hands up into the air, possibly thinking that “Shot bru” meant I was armed and a potential threat. I left the store with my airtime and, walking back to my apartment in minus eight degrees, I grinned and chuckled to myself. I am a South African.
A fond memory from a visit to Cuba in December 2015, immediately prior to the lifting of the embargo between the Cuban and American governments, was a beautifully surprising and amazing experience. As my elder brother and I walked along the Malecon in Havana, a place that has a similar vibe to the Durban beachfront in South Africa, we both wore T-shirts that had the face of Nelson Mandela printed across them.
It was a beautiful experience when the friendly locals stopped us frequently, pointed at our shirts, exclaimed, “Nelson Mandela!”, kissed the palm of their hand and placed it on their chests, directly over where the heart is. We were the South Africans walking along the Cuban Malecon and we walked with our chins high. Proudly South African.
As Heritage Day approaches, I adamantly state that my culture is South African. I am as South African as our national anthem. In my lifetime, I intend travelling the world. Wherever I may go, wherever my travels take me, I will always be South African.
Despite complaints that people have about our country, despite flaws that people point out on a daily basis, on this Heritage Day and on every other day of every year, I am a South African and I have never been more proud to be made up of little bits of everything beautiful that my diverse nation has contributed to building the person that I am.
MOJOIOL