Tales of a Zulugal

This morning at Chancery Lane, I hopped onto Central line. Straight to Nottinghill Gate - 20 minutes tops. Took a short cut onto the platform to catch my 2nd and final train, just one stop - usually takes 4 minutes max.  As I near the stair case I see a sea of people coming down the stairs from the direction of the platform - a sign that my train has arrived and is on the platform. I sprint, half way up the stairs the doors of the train shut. I slowly walk onto the platform, I look at the forelonely at the tail of train as it snaked its way out the station. Looking up at the digital train time notification board thingie, it says : Cirle Line and Hammersmith and City Line, no indication of time - as usuall. How helpful is that? Five minutes, nothing, 10 minutes pass, still no update. The clock is nearing 9am, my start time, still no train!  After 15 minutes of a dead end wait, an announcement.  "There are no trains from this platform, there is an engineering ...

I have lived in London for almost 6 years, I have overcome a series of hurdles with regards to cultural differences and so forth. But there is still one thing that gets to me, it bugs me to bits - every single time it happens. The fake smile. Working in front of house most of the time. I need to always look up each time someone passes by. When our eyes meet, I smile.  The other person "smiles", yet the smile never reaches the eyes. In fact before they pass me, the so called smile has already vanished. This to me, means one thing and one thing only. This was not a real smile, it was fake, pretend, "just being polite" smile. A smile should be genuine, and meaningful. I would rather they do not acknowledge my smile rather than tossing in my direction a fake one. Maybe we should blame all the magazine articles that have been written about the benefits of smiling that its good for your health to smile. Usually, if not all the time not mentioning that it should be a rea...

When you have an immense build up of toxic waste in your system.  You usually feel sluggish, tired, worn out, burnt out and energy less. This is how you feel constantly until you decide to do something about it.  When I was young somehow my mother or grandmother would sense that I needed a "detox session".  Decades later, my mom filled me in on how she "miracalously" knew when we needed some detoxing. These are the symptoms are she would pick on: smelly breath (despite brushing teeth twice  a day plus mouth washing), heavy, worn outeyes (even though having slept the recommended 8 hours) and smelly arm pits. The remedy: using ucatho. This devise is a rounded rubber container with a plastic tip, it acts as a syringe which extracts some natural herbal stuff mixed with water that cleanse you from the inside from all toxins.  This is done by squeezing the rubber part, then the liquid comes out from the tip.  Its more or less ...

My Big sis Gugu and my cousin Sne Letters to my sisters, I have decided to write these letters not only to stay in touch but also to play a role in your life as I am not close by for those moments of need, when you need someone to talk to, when you need a shoulder to cry and when you need a true friend.   These are letters are not only addressed to my physical sisters, but also to all women in general.   Especially those who are about to enter the next most important a crucial phase of their lives: adulthood.     I am hoping these letters will bridge the gap of the physical distance that separates us, presently.   Above all I hope these letters will ignite hope, confidence, self-belief and a living faith in the one who holds all things in His Hands. I promise not to judge you but to show you a sisterly love.   I promise not to criticize you, but to boost your confidence.   I promise not to put down with words that will create doubts, but to lift ...

I made my first home made soup! Yey! Tomato soup with carrots, celery and butter beans.  It tasted yummy.  From the way things are going, I think my culinary skills are being stretched and expanded.                                                                                                                                                                                                                            So no more stamp, pap (...

Yes, I have changed the title of these entries to "The Detox", cause I have run out of maple syrup today.  So how can it be a master cleanse without the lemonade drink, right?  I already feel GREAT!  Even though I didn't really stick to it to the tee.  I'm still proud of myself for being determined into detoxing, cutting off certain foods and not eating carby foods after 6pm. I have already started seeing the effects of my effort.  My size 10 skirts still don't fit yet, but mentally I'm feeling superb.  I never thought I could not eat anything without a carb, especially my beloved bread.  But I have hung in there.  I was doing my shopping the other day and eyes lingered on the frozen fries section.  However because I have a goal, I will abstain from all unnecessary fattening foods and I will stick to the rules of the Anna Richardsons, Body Blitz: 1.  No wheat (cakes, pastries etc.), 2. No Diary (apart from the ...

" Do you still eat bread as you used to?", asked my mom on one of our distant telephone conversations. Yes, I am a bread-a-holic, or should I say, I was.  However since moving to the UK, my bread tooth has lessened some what compared to my South African days. One of my fondest bread moments was when I was 5 years old.  We had a spaza shop at our Shayamoya home, which was a new development in the early 90's, in Kwa-Mashu - Durban.  A spaza shop is sort of an equivalent to off license stores in the UK.  Just past midday the fragrant bread would arrive from the local bakery KMB.  Warm and tender, soft to the touch.  My sister and I had just started primary school.  We would arrive home to the smell of warm fresh bread.  The first time I indulged in my bread-tooth, I might have asked my mom for some bread, however this detail I don't remember which means I most probably didn't ask.  Driven by hunger I might...