I am navigating all the hoops involved in country and continent hopping. I did it in the other direction in 2008, aged 28, when all I had to do was pack a bag and jump on a plane. That, and get permission. In a world with borders and restricted movement, I had to get a work visa based on qualifications, language, age, and proof that I could self-support. Like borrowing money, where you need to prove you don’t need to borrow it. In the other direction, I am a citizen. This time, the lottery of birth works in my favour. My British wife is going through the process of getting a visa. Thanks to Social Media, in many ways I never “left” South Africa. During Lockdown, does it matter if you are reading Sindile Vabaza’s musings on your computer in the Cotswolds or in Claremont? In other ways, I have been a Scatterling of Africa and am returning home. Everything is temporary. The body regenerates every 7-10 years. We choose what we want to keep, what we want to discard, and what we want to add. Reinventing. Reinvesting. This time, I am “not leaving” the UK. I am not leaving the old colleagues, clients, neighbours, artists, dancers, yogis, family and friends who are not defined by the random location they were dropped on this planet.
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