The yearning for ‘home’ lingers, despite a love for our adopted nation

A FEW WEEKS ago I dreamed that friends back in South Africa were admonishing me about living in the UK. “No,” they asserted, “now that you’ve moved there, you won’t ever be able to come back here.” I protested. I implored. But they were unyielding.

Thank goodness it was only a dream, probably sparked by plans for a holiday in SA. But my subconscious was wrestling with issues I thought I’d laid to rest. Even after almost five years in Britain, it was upsetting to contemplate permanently severing ties with my homeland. What if this was it, for good?

For hundreds of years — and as many reasons — people have made the move away from the land of their birth. But more than most, we South Africans seem to hanker after what we have left behind, yearning for all that is worthy about our roots.

Are we just overly sentimental, I wondered? I decided to quiz a few fellow Saffers about their experiences of settling in this green and pleasant land.

Between two cultures

“Our culture is really strong,” says Yolanda, a mental health nurse who’s lived in the UK for 14 years, “so it feels like we have one foot in the UK and one still in South Africa. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I went back, and that stops me from settling completely. Culturally, I will always be South African, but the UK does feel like home now and I think if I went back I’d feel a stranger.”

“I’ve been here two years and still haven’t acclimatised,” declares Mandy, a Durbanite working as a carer. “It doesn’t matter how many jerseys [or is that ‘jumpers’?] I put on; I’m still cold. And of course, I miss my daughter and friends. It’s difficult to form new friendships here. You don’t feel you can just pop in to visit someone — you have to be invited.”

Yolanda’s experiences are similar. “When I first started working in the UK, staff would arrive in the mornings and not greet each other,” she says incredulously. “And at times I can feel invisible, like when school mums are chatting but don’t bother to include me in the conversation.”

Capetonian admin assistant Lisa, who in 2012 returned to SA after nearly five years in the UK, agrees that it can be difficult to fit in. “I was afraid of offending others with my South African expressions,” she says.

“The transport system was tricky too… figuring out how to change trains and wondering where your bus would end up. But once I learned how it worked, it was really useful. I also loved low-cost flights to Europe, a cheap and reliable internet connection, the snow, and being able walk in the countryside, through farmers’ fields past cows and horses.”

Appreciating our new home

Lisa is not the only expat to express appreciation for the quality of life we have in the UK, and most mention the security aspect. Says Yolanda, “My children and I are safe going for bike rides out in the country, only minutes from home, and there’s no need for that heightened state of alertness I experienced in Johannesburg.”

Like many South Africans, when Capetonians Mike, a technical support desk supervisor, and his wife Jill, visited 15 years ago they intended to travel and gain work experience. But realising they could own a home and raise a family on one salary was a major draw card in their decision to stay. A health system that would support their asthmatic daughter was a bonus.

As a single mom Yolanda is thankful for the financial support she receives, and praises what she calls Britain’s Plan B: “Here there is always a back-up plan. If there was a real crisis, you don’t feel as though you’d be left alone to cope.”

Mother-of-two and cardiac nurse, Kerry, agrees: “Britain is an efficient society and that makes life much easier. Businesses and people here are reliable. They do what they say they will, so it’s not frustrating dealing with them.”

Dealing with the challenges

She also appreciates the secure lifestyle and the friendships she’s made by belonging to a church-based community, “but sometimes I find life surreal,” she remarks. “In South Africa the majority are poor and battle to survive. In the UK, most have a job and somewhere to live, and many seem unaware of great suffering going on in the world.”

Lisa agrees, remembering the frustration she felt in her job with a borough council where she dealt with customers who demanded benefits. “They saw it as their right,” she explains.

For Lucinda, an accounts and admin assistant from Johannesburg, the demanding, first-world environment of a large UK corporate was challenging when she immigrated seven years ago. “It made the transition to life in Britain tough.

“But there are many things I appreciate about the UK now — like the reliable postal service and online shopping. Even buying groceries is a treat because of the variety. And, of course, being located so centrally for travelling abroad is a huge plus.”

Everyone I chat to misses family and friends, and most hanker after the climate and around-the-braai lifestyle, as well as our homeland’s warm, friendly people. Unlike me, though, none of them mentions a longing for the scenery and wildlife, and only some seem to share a powerful nostalgia that ebbs and flows.

Mike declares simply, “We do miss South Africa, but we’ve grown to love the UK.”

And that’s what you hear when you talk to most relocated South Africans — a mixture of pleasure and sadness. We relish the positive aspects of our adopted nation, but continue to feel (albeit some more deeply than others) inextricably bound to our great, deep continent. It’s a dichotomy that lingers.

‘Africa gets in your blood,’ we often hear said. Just a twee rationalisation of homesickness, or a whimsical explanation for the ties that continue to bind us? I’ll let you decide.