I did some catching up with old friends this weekend. The Dove came round to sloth with me chez moi, and The Ant was in town, so we had a massive catch up at her sister's braai.
Hell I miss that girl. So much.
We found ourselves at a northern suburbs complex, one that is literally within in spitting distance of the gargantuan Montecasino. If you leaned over the balcony far enough, you could rub yourself up against the fake Tuscan bricks, that sortathing.
It's been some time since I had a little thrash (on Sprite Zero), in the true North. And it always amazes me. For one, getting into the complex itself involves a fair degree of patience. There's a queue at the double-boomed entrance, because you need to give el security guardo all your particulars, including ID, which takes time.
Finding parking is also a challenge, for out of the 300 units, which all look the same, (terracotta, wrought iron awning, fake rocks), one has to park on the edge of Pretoria and fumble one's way towards a unit based on the sounds one hears. (I was listening out for Italian-like shrills emitted from the Ant's and her sister's collective mouths).
Then there was the club house. Now I know people who reside in these complexes don't fancy leaving, ever, but this was a new education for me. The club house was but pumping. With music from a DJ at Evolution night club in Midrand. And half the complex was there, klapping a couple of Jaegies, having a real eventski right within the walls of their property.
I don't imagine these people venture out into the real world much, and had they asked me (the-out-of-towner where I lived, and had I said “Illovo” they would've asked whether that was in near Alberton), but I don't imagine they want to really meet new people. God only knows that one can smell the gambling chips at “Monte” because it is so close, and that there are a few unplausible places they could go to within close distance – but by the looks of things, these guys party at “El Club House” every single Friday and Saturday night.
It's like the set of Neighbours but a hundred times more putrile. The complex is called Shingara Sands – which if you've spent any time in Lonehill, you'll understand is a steroetypical name for these types of places. It's either an Italian “Il Toscana” or a Kalahari is Nigh bushveld diminutive like Shingara Sands.
So the club house, facing onto Montecasino, which half blinded me with it's Auschwitz-like lighting, and the fact that it's ugly as sin, mixed with a whole lot of locals, is a new world in my eyes. Locals, which rapidly left the proximity of our table when I said, at a louder vocal level than was possibly accepted, but I was just so alarmed:
Peas: Dude, am I in some kind of ....northern suburbs nightmare.
Ant: Dude, keep it down. These guys probably come to the clubhouse every weekend.
Peas: Do you think they know where Illovo is? This is insane.It's like a suburb, within a suburb, within a suburb, fuck I feel caged in.
Ant: Pipe down. Although, I'd imagine inter-unit shagging here is prolific.
Peas: I'm abomnified.
There are seriously two cities in the Joburg northern suburbs. Within those two cities there are two very different mindsets. One mindset is slightly paranoid and caged in, and will party with their neighbours every Saturday.
Another is a little more put out about being caged in, and gets claustrophobic at the thought of booms and club house interaction with the people that live next to them.
Neither is bad, but they cater for an entirely different type of person. On the bright side, these people get to know their neighbours extremely well. And probably feel a close sense of community within their faceless dwelling.
On the not-so-brightside, getting into my car and driving south 15 kilometres to a world where my flat is characteristic, the people are all different and I socialise with different groups in different areas on a constant basis, was a relief.
Their world seems a little too fake for me. Regardless, it was great to see Ant. And I have to get to Secunda one of these weekends to experience her new cultural interaction, which sounds pretty.darn.interesting.