“Looking forward you constantly acquire moments of arrival, moments of realization, moments of discovery. The wind blows your hair back and you are greeted by what you have never seen before. The material falls away in onrushing experience. It peels off like skin from a molting snake. Of course to forget the past is to lose the sense of loss that is also memory of an absent richness and a set of clues to navigate the present by; the art is not one of forgetting but letting go. And when everything else is gone, you can be rich in loss.”
– Rebecca Solnit from A Field Guide to Getting Lost

The friction between the forward motion of cycling through chores and projects here on the quinta, and visits to South Africa is in essence what creates my reality as it shapes the person I am and become through the passage of time. A brief two-week visit to South Africa reminded me again of why I put up with the bureaucratic challenges of legally living in Portugal, and although there are always lovely interactions with various strangers, reminding me of how friendly South Africans are, I also know that I would do everything I can to avoid living there permanently again. It is the constant pull and push between feelings of belonging and not belonging that in a strange way also add to the richness of my memories and experiences of a country that has shaped the way I looked at life, and reinforces the feeling of being a stranger on a continent that my forefathers left centuries ago in search of a better life.
On my father’s side, the progenitor of all the van Niekerks in South Africa today, Dirk van Nieuwekerken (later changed to van Niekerk) arrived in the Cape of Good Hope in 1671, while my mother’s side, the Taljaard family, who were French Huguenots, arrived a century later via Holland. The irony is not lost on me that I find myself back in Europe in search of a better, safer life.












Notes:
# The month started with frantic preparations for welcoming the quinta sitter on the 3rd, and leaving for Lisbon. Of course, something had to go wrong. As I was doing loads and loads of laundry the water suddenly, instead of draining away into the septic tank, started bubbling up into the shower tray. Luckily Michael installed a grease trap (not standard in Portugal) in the water heater room to make cleaning the drainage system easier for us – a job, although not the most pleasant, is simply part of our yearly summer chores. Luckily, all I had to do was clean out the grease trap (yuk) and let the hot water tap run for a while, before things were back to normal.
# With no time to spare to catch my bus on the 3rd, we had to take a 15-minute detour, because an accident caused a road closure. Lawrence seemed to enjoy the challenge and excuse to speed, and got me to the bus station with 5 minutes to spare.
# Two nights in Lisbon before my flight to South Africa with Turkish Airlines, meant I could destress and enjoy the gorgeous spring weather in one of my favourite parts of Lisbon – Parque das Nações. It is a modern neighbourhood with spacious walkways along the Tagus River, and tree-lined streets, where green areas and public art are never far away. It is also where one finds a major bus and train station, while the airport is a quick three metro stops away. Developed for the 1998 World Expo, the degraded industrial area that occupied the space were transformed into what is perhaps Lisbon’s most modern neighbourhood.
# I returned to balmy days with the smell of jasmine and orange blossoms perfuming the air, but in true spring fashion we’ve had an impressive thunderstorm two nights ago, and a subsequent extra 24.5 mm of rain to make it a total of 53.5 mm for the month, which introduced cooler weather again. To be honest, I’m not too unhappy about that, as there is a lot of strimming waiting for me that I need to catch up on, and cooler weather makes working outside much more pleasant.












A Moment of Joy:
It was wonderful to be able to spend time with various family members and friends, cramming a year’s worth of conversation into a couple of hours or days, but for someone who is used to the quiet life with only Midnight and Lily for company, it can become a tad tiring, which is why two moments stand out for me during my visit that brought pure joy. The one was taking a walk along the beach, lingering a while with my feet in the warm water of the Indian Ocean, while the other was taking a long morning walk on the farm at sunrise flanked by maize taller than my head.
Portuguese Traditions:
Freedom Day, or Dia da Liberdade, celebrated on the 25th of April each year, commemorates and celebrates the Carnation Revolution (Revolução dos Cravos), a peaceful military coup that took place on that day in 1974, ending what was the longest running fascist regime in Europe.
Click on the following links, if you are interested in exploring the subject: an interesting article, a personal memory, and a short video.
Written by: Jolandi


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Hello Jolandi,
It has been some time but I am very much looking forward to continuing our conversations. I can imagine the various feelings that come with visiting (or re-visiting) a part of your personal history. I think I can relate when you say while you enjoyed the companionship and conversations, you also missed the blessed peace and quiet that can only come from your life in Portugal. I am very glad that you have both been doing well. Your writings and photographs are always beautiful.
I guess the plight of the introvert is always that balancing act between spending time with the people you love, and being on your own, Takami. There is joy in both, but finding the place of perfect balance can be far more tricky. That is perhaps why I love your photographs so much, as they speak of your own solitude in nature.
What a lovely post. Nice to know your family’s heritage and that you got to spend time in South Africa. Not surprised your moments of joy were walking outdoors. That would suit me too. Like you, I’ll never again live in the country of my birth.
I cannot imagine that you would ever be comfortable in your country of birth again, Peggy. You have certainly outgrown it through absorbing so much of the world through where you’ve lived and travelled. My favourite writer writing about the concept of home and one’s homeland is Elif Shafak. How to Stay Sane in an Age of Division is an excellent book to read.
You and Peggy have both left your country of birth. This concept makes me sad because I can now understand how it could be a choice people make. I see my own country careening headlong into fascism. Even if our current Cult King dies or is cast aside, his minions are young and feverish for power. They will get it. I have seen my countrymen and our population does not contain enough people with the education and understanding required to stop this train. The minority of us who CLEARLY see that things could be better…I think we do not have the power. I have asked myself: What, oh what, do others do when their own country betrays them? Do they leave? Pedro and I have talked about moving to South America. Not even his home country calls to him. Anyway. Gosh, sorry if that was depressing. But maybe you and Peggy are two strong and intelligent women who made the personal best choice, and that did not include staying in your first country.
The colours of the warm season are upon you and I hope it results in many moments where the beauty of your world stops you in your tracks. That has been happening to me here. It’s astounding how many gifts are available to me and Pedro here. I feel gratitude so deeply right now. I like your hillside of lavender – is it lavender? And your Lily is a poof of white cloud, what a gorgeous, healing sight. Midnight is my soul match though, off on a path outside, thinking private thoughts.
Love the photo of your toe in the sea!! And the art in Lisbon and your perspective in the photos is fascinating. Thank you.
You are most definitely experiencing a vary difficult chapter in American history, Crystal. There are so many reasons people leave their countries of birth, and although social media and even mainstream media often paints a rosy picture, the challenges one face can outweigh the challenges one desperately try to leave behind, and result in disillusion and unhappiness. It is neither an easy choice, nor an easy journey, so all I can say is good luck with debating and exploring your choices. And in the meantime, I am glad that you and Pedro have so much to feel grateful for.
Yes, that wonderful purple haze is lavender. It grows wild, but I do prune it every two years and cut old woody plants out regularly to make sure it stays as gorgeous as it is in these pictures.
It is my view from studying many post-WWII Europeans immigrants to Australia, that forever more, one doesn’t belong entirely in one place than the other. The culture of their homeland moves on, while their memories of their culture stay locked in another time, one they try to impose on their Australian-born children.
Somewhat different in your case, except that in your lifetime you have seen South Africa change in ways those original van Nieuwekerkens would never have envisaged. And you have moved to a Portugal which is very different to the pre–Carnation Revolution days. Quite the juxtaposition as you allude to.
I sometimes refer to myself as ‘outside Gwen’ and ‘inside Gwen’. One is known as social and gregarious – the ‘garrulous’ of my moniker. The other, mostly only my laptop lover sees 🙂 (and my husband if he takes any notice hahahaaaa). I’m guessing that on your return to Portugal, you were happy to feel the physical pressure of silence bearing down on your ears, while returning with warm memories of a family catch up. xxx Gwen
That is so true, Gwen. Memories can enrich one’s life, or lead to stagnation. It is the tensions between or juxtapositions of various components of one’s life that makes life interesting. Pehaps not easy, but certainly interesting.
It’s incredible that you’re able to trace the history of your ancestors. That’s something I’ve been curious about myself, but so far I can only trace back as far as my great great great grandfather (and probably a few more generations before him). The story of how your ancestors left Europe and arrived in South Africa, and how now you return to the continent where they were from, makes me think of the many Chinese Indonesians living in Indonesia now. Although none of the Chinese Indonesian friends I know has the thought of moving to China. At least not yet.
By the way, I really love the shots from the quinta. They do scream spring. And again, I feel you when you say long conversations, no matter how fun, can be tiring. It’s nice that you had the time to take a walk by yourself to recharge your social battery.
I must admit that I am not overly interested in my ancestors, Bama, but thanks to dilligent family members who did the research I know at least when they arrived in South Africa. Perhaps that is the only aspect of my family tree I am really interested in. I do find it fascinating though how people migrate all over the world, and am always shocked at how minority groups are often abused and hated. I’m currently reading The Border by Erica Fatland in which she travelled around the entire border of Russia, examining the past, politics, history and people who live in these areas. It is a fascinating read, and one I highly recommend if one enjoys travel writing with an immense amount of depth.
It is interesting how far back you can still trace your family. I hope you found interesting people and snippets of information while doing so.
It was my mother who told me about my ancestors, especially from her side. Strangely, a few years before my aunt (my mother’s eldest sister) passed away, she handed me an old document detailing this very information. Why she gave it to me instead of her own children will remain a mystery.
You seem to stumble upon interesting books, Jolandi. I’ll see if I can find that book at the bookstores here in Jakarta.
How fascinating that your aunt gave this to you, and not her children, Bama.
You may also like her book on Central Asia called Sovietistan. I found it when I started looking for books about Uzbekistan, and that is how I discovered her as a writer.
Your spring photos are gorgeous, especially those shots of the sun peeking through the branches at sunrise and sunset. I’ve also been catching the scent of jasmine from houses I pass on my morning walks; there’s no better way to start the day.
It’s so fascinating how you’ve been able to trace back your family roots. It really puts “life’s only constant is change” into perspective. I wish I could look into my own but the info is pretty spare.
Also, the best part of a long trip is a layover where you can just wander around a city at your own pace. Lisbon is perfect for that. As for your cats, I love keeping up with the paw stories. God bless them!!
I love that you are able to smell jasmine on your morning walks, Sarah. The sense of smell is such an important part of memory and experience, and we often fail to pay close attention to it. Family history is certainly an interesting topic for many, although if I am honest, I am not as interested in it as it may appear. The only reason I know when my ancestors arrived in South Africa is because of other family members being interested in the topic. Apart from that, I actually couldn’t really care much about the topic.
I will let the spring photos of the quinta, the ocean, the warmth of family , and the sweet kitties keep me mostly away from the topic of leaving one’s birth place. Like Peggy and others above, I lament the state of my own country so badly these days, and were it not for four generations of loving family still here, I’d be on a serious quest for new horizons.
Family does provide an anchor in stormy times, Lexie. I hope this is a storm you can weather, though. It does seem that the US is not a great place to live in at the moment. Focusing on those things that bring joy and gratitude is definitely a great strategy for when life feels less optimistic or comfortable. Big hug.
The opening quote is brilliant for this piece—and it’s a beautiful piece of writing, Jolandi. I loved how you wove together the textures of quinta life, your brief (albeit intense) return to South Africa, and the arc of your family story into a meditation of belonging and distance. You had me nodding my head in agreement throughout. It’s difficult to live between places and the shifts between people and solitude. It’s those beautiful moments of silence and peace that get etched in our memories to hold onto—your walk on the beach and the walk on the farm during sunrise… the lingering beauty that makes it all worthwhile, and makes you appreciative of what you’ve done: creating a new life on your quinta. Well done, my friend!
Thank you for your lovely and kind words, Randall. They mean a lot coming from you, who understand what life in places away from one’s birth country feels like, and the impact it has on one’s life.
It is always good to return to your country of birth for a while; to be in familiar places and see family and friends. And then it is wonderful to be at home again and to realise that you are more comfortable where you are now. I still live in England the country of my birth but I have moved away from the county where I grew up. My sister still lives in Kent and it is good to go back but I wouldn’t live there again, ever. When I left school I was desperate to leave home and live in Austria or Germany and I nearly did, but a few disappointments drove me back to England. I think we all have different facets and layers to who we are. We are made up of different memories and hopes, likes and dislikes, achievements and failures and sometimes this can be confusing to us as well as other people. How wonderful human beings are!
The pictures you have taken of the views and the plants on the quinta are beautiful!
Well said, Clare. I love hearing the stories people tell of where life’s unexpected twists and turns took them. And each place changes us in the process.