And we´re up and running

 I’m over the moon to announce that my Randburg garden studio is now open for business. It´s a dream come true, it really is. There´s nothing I like more than doing art and creative writing with children. 
I will start with offering classes for kids in:
1. Visual journaling,
2. Creative writing, and
3. Up-cycling art
Please message me for more information or send an e-mail to annikalanga@yahoo.com

Upcycled painting

I bought a painting at an auction in Johannesburg for R30 (2 US dollar). It had a nice yellow frame, but the painting itself, a landscape, was a little underwhelming. So my daughter and I decided to dust it off and upcycle it.
I drew a male character (whom a friend named Tricky Persson) and my daughter a fabulous pink flower. The spruced up painting is going back into the yellow frame and up on the wall of my new art studio. Everyone is happy, including Tricky Persson of course.

 

How to plant an acorn

I come from an Arctic part of Sweden where only pine tree and potato survive. I´ve always dreamt of growing exotic things (tropical fruits, organic vegetables, flowers, moss, you name it), but I don´t seem to be having very green fingers.
So, I´m all the more pleased with our latest project where we actually succeeded in growing a few oak trees in pots. I guess they are hardy little (big) trees. If I can do it (with the help of my daughter Tholi) so can you, so can anyone. 💚🌿

OAK TUTORIAL:

1. Look for acorns in early autumn. Pick those that are green-brownish in colour and that have no cap (if they do, gently remove the cap).

2. Place acorns in a bowl of water. Those that float are no good. They may have been affected by worms and fungus. 

3. Plant the good acorns in a pot or container (one in each). Place the acorn on the side an cover it by potting soil (about 2.5 cm).  You can also use the native soil from where you found the acorn.

4. Place in a warm, sunny position and water frequently. 

5. Wait for the magic; for your little seed to start growing into a giant oak. 

The day I realised I had become Zulu

Paul and I in our rural home in Msinga.

My first meeting with Johannesburg and South Africa was in April 1991. I was so taken that I left university to join the anti-apartheid movement. The following year, I met my husband Paul and the rest is, as they say, history.
We got married, I emigrated from Sweden, we had a son and a daughter. Johannesburg was my new home and the Langas my family. Still, during the first ten years or so, I was very "Swedish". Nothing much wrong with that, but in an "outside of Sweden situation", it got tiring to be the one who was on time, knew all the answers, who was always ready to sniff out a problem, and above all to be time efficient no matter what.
I thought that if I´m allowed to take charge of this and that, I can fix it in two hours (rather than in two days). I used to become extremely impatient when everything had to be discussed in length and everybody had to voice their opinions. It took forever and a day.
I was fiercely independent and ready to fight over a principle at any given moment. I thought it was backwards to never get into an argument with an elderly person and never to criticise anybody in public. How would anything ever change if one didn´t set the record straight? I wondered.
Then Africa embraced me and made me a better person - and I will for ever be grateful. Well, it´s still an ongoing process, or a work in progress if you like, but I have come to understand that time isn´t everything. Being human is. And, yes, conflicts can be solved without ugly confrontations. You can reach at least some sort of consensus if you are willing to talk (even if takes time) and show respect (even to your worst opponents). If you´re absolutely stuck, you can always do a "Madiba - Tutu" and argee to disagree.
I find it somewhat embarrasing that it took so long time for me to see the light, even though I don´t know exactly when it happened. But in 2013, 22 years after my first journey to Johannesburg, I was working with a seasoned Swedish journalist. He was under pressure and not very impressed with me. The last time we spoke, he shouted at me for a good five minutes. I didn´t say anything. I couldn´t. I was shell shocked. It wasn´t what he was saying, but the fact that he was shouting at:
1) A mother, and
2) Another man´s wife.
He hung up and I realised that he couldn´t care less. We were not on the same wave length. He was Swedish. And I was Zulu.

Chimps can ice-skate (why am I not surprised?)

Master of spread eagles.

Some of my most amazing meetings in Africa have been with chimpanzees. In my early journalist years, I didn´t have time for animals and national parks. But during a trip to Zimbabwe in 1997, I visited a zoological garden where I for the first time came face to face with a chimp.
His first care taker also happend to be there. The chimp hadn´t seen him for ten years. The reunion was remarkable. They were like two long lost friends. The chimp didn´t want to let go of him. I will never forget it.
I have since then been fortunate to meet with a handful of chimps. One filmed himself with my cell phone, one "brushed" my hair, checked my teeth and kissed me. I admit that I was a bit scared at first, but he was a real gentleman. (Fact #43: Chimps have soft hands.) I will never forget that either.
Intelligent, fun, emotional, strong and gentle. It does not surprise me a bit that they can ice-skate, too.
See video (from 1973) here.

Happy panda news!

Happy birthday sweet heart!

Jia-Jia, the oldest panda bear held in captivity in the world, has celebrated her 37th birthday (110 human years). I´ve seen her live in Hong Kong - and she´s absolutely beautiful. I was so taken I even forgot to take the obligatory selfie with her in the background.
When asked about the secret of reaching such a respectable age, Jia-Jia´s care takers answered that they love her lots and lots. I like their approach lots and lots.
And there are more good news: According to the WWF, the population of pandas in the wild has increased by 17 percent.

See more here!

The highlight of my life as a letter writer

In May 2013, I wrote a letter to Juliet Capulet (Verona, Italy), William Shakespear´s fictional character from the 1594 play "The Most Excellent and Lamentable Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet".
The romantic snail mail organisation Juliet Club (Club di Giulietta), run by a group of lovely, underpaid secretaries, receive some 60.000 letters from all over the year every year. The amazing thing is that everyone gets a personal response. All 60.000!!
I had to write. The project included everything I love: Letters, history, love and litterature. I told the story of how I, a journalist student from Sweden, met a South African freedom fighter and political prisoner and fell in love.
I was not aware that there´s also an annual competition. Hence, it was a complete surprise when one of the secretaries contacted me with the news that I had won the award for the most beautiful letter in 2013. 
I, Paul and our youngest daughter Tholi attended the award ceremony in Verona on Valentine´s Day 2014. It was held in the House of Juliet on Via Capello, the 13th century building with the famous balcony where Shakespear is said to have imagined Juliet waiting for her Romeo.
It was pure magic and I would urge all lovers and snail mail fans to write to Juliet. The address is:
 

Club di Giulietta - Juliet Club

Corso Santa Anastasia 29

37121 Verona - Italy

 

Paul and I at the award ceremony.

My letter to Juliet.

Notes of event in my new Italian journal.