Author Archives: wendywelch

Nelson Mandela: The Print Version

Posted on by
2

I actually heard about Nelson Mandela for the first time in a children’s book. I was perhaps nine, and reading Mary Stolz’s Who Wants Music on a Monday? In this novel of teen/family angst, the young hero says something about Nelson Mandela being under house arrest, testing his date’s knowledge of current events. She replies that she feels under house arrest herself, given the strictness of her parents; he decides she’s too vapid and self-centered, if she can apply the reason a South African leader is martyring himself to her personal circumstances.

And I thought, “Who?”

Back then we didn’t have Wikipedia; we walked uphill through the snow to and from school, summer and winter. But we did have the entire Encyclopedia Britannica in the back of the classroom. So I looked him up.

He wasn’t in there. I had to ask my teacher. She gave me a funny look and told me it was recess.

Years later at university, I was taking a photojournalism class and we were assigned to bring in a photo that outshone the headline from a major city newspaper. All eight of us brought in a picture of Nelson Mandela, freshly released from prison, arms raised in victory, Winnie at his side. By then I kinda had a clue; by then we could look stuff up online and whether somebody was an accepted hero (or really big villain) no longer dictated who got to hear about him or her. For better or worse, grass roots journalism had been born.

Through the Winnie saga, the DeKlerk years, the dignity of being a global statesman, and finally the failing health of Mandela, I lived respectively in Germany, Newfoundland, Scotland, England, and the States. Where I lived dictated what I heard, and in what tone of voice. I still remember the BBC radio report that celebrated Mandela’s life because he was receiving an international peacekeeping award, followed by a fairly breezy piece on diamond trading. (For those unaware, South Africa is unfortunately rich in diamonds, which has caused it no end of trouble and brought the country a string of fair-weather political friends, condemning Mandela in the ’70s and lauding him in the ’90s.)

News–and history, more than we like to think–are moving targets. Nelson Mandela’s life in print is probably nothing near what his actual impact has been; and it is a moving target. God Bless those who do what is in front of them because it is important, with no thought to how it will be told later. And God Save Us from pundits who take up a hero’s story for their own purposes. Rest in Peace, Nelson Mandela.

Tails of Dogs and Cats

Posted on by
1

Jack’s weekly guest post –

I’m a bit of a fan of Alexander McCall Smith, ever since I stumbled across the No 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series. I also fell for his Scotland Street series as well – particularly for his very accurate depiction of a certain element of Edinburgh society with which I’m familiar. The slightly down at heel Georgian New Town intelligencia, complete with their locked private gardens!

One of the characters in the Scotland Street series is a dog called Cyril and McCall Smith manages to get inside his mind wonderfully. In many ways Cyril became one of my favorites.

But then along came the incredible Freddie De La Hay – one of the residents of Corduroy Mansions a new series set in the Pimlico neighborhood of London. Freddy is first introduced as an ex-drugsniffing dog made redundant from Heathrow Airport as a result of a campaign against sex discrimination (all the drugsniffers were male). Once again McCall Smith gets right inside the mind of a dog as it smells its way around its world, eating expensive shoes and catching Russian spies along the way. Despite a fascinating range of humans, it’s the dog that once again does it for me!

What got me thinking about this was an experience I had yesterday. We took in an older cat a few days ago that had initially been rescued by our friend Jessica. She was going to keep her, but her existing feline co-habitee didn’t approve at all. So Jessica paid to have Sweetie Pie spayed and then she came to us until we can find her a permanent home. All well and good!

Wendy left at lunchtime yesterday for a couple of days of business in Richmond and I was left keeping an eye on the lodger. Sweetie Pie seemed quite content relaxing on a stool in the mystery room. Then Kellie, our cafe chef, came in around 5 pm from a grocery run – “Sweetie Pie’s outside”, she said. “what?” I said – –

Sure enough – she was out in the front garden and when I went to pick her up she ran down onto the sidewalk. We both tried to catch her, but she kept running further off. eventually it got too dark to see where she was and I gave up. What on earth would I say to Wendy – and Jessica – how would we tell her that the cat she recued and paid to have spayed had run away on our watch? Wendy phoned later and I broke the news. We commiserated with each other and agreed that at least she had been spayed so there wouldn’t be exponential explosion of kittens.

Feeling disconsolate, I headed down to our basement bedroom and noted both dogs and our three indoor cats all in their favorite spots. Sitting on the edge of the bed to take of my shoes, I glanced up. Owen Meany had been lying beside Zora but now he was magically up on the window sill! No – wait – he’s still beside Zora – what?

Sweetie Pie holds court

Sweetie Pie holds court

There she sat, calmly licking her paw and preening herself. “What?” she meowed – “fine neighborhood you have here. Nice cats! What’s for dinner?”