I am in PE. The place of wind. Today is the twelfth day on this uBuntu road. There has been very little communication with the outside world and it is time to check a few mails and perhaps update the blog. I make my way to an internet café. I still have not spent my R100. The guy at the café is incredibly friendly. He can tell that I do not have a lot of money, I’m guessing from all the questions I ask. He informs me that I can try the local library or the university for free internet access. I am immediately intrigued by the name of the tertiary institution: Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University. If I were looking for a sign or a road to uBuntu, this would be it. I walk along the beach in parts to get to NMMU. The staff there says that because I am writing a book, I will be granted special permission and access to one of their resource centres.

I am in front of a PC with the password that will see me once again connected with the outside world. I am struggling to log on and in frustration spin around, dramatically yelping: ‘PLEASE somebody help!’

A young woman, with amused, curious eyes, asks me what the problem is. ‘I’m stuck! I can’t log in with the details that I’ve been given.’

‘Well, then log in with my username.’ This is how Janine and I meet. She wants to know what I am doing here, if I’m not a student or staff member. She is fascinated by the uBuntu story and asks if I have somewhere to stay. Nope. ‘Well, you have now!’

Her mom’s name is Jean and I am welcomed into the home. I am to stay with Janine in her room, and have I eaten something? I have my first experience of the humour in this family when Janine is excited that we’re having ‘Mills and Boons’ for lunch. Really? Yes, she laughs, it is ‘Mielies en Bone’, better known as Samp and Beans or Umngqusho. This is the first coloured family that I stay with and Jean explains important events and how they are dealt with here in Gelvandale. I get an understanding of how deep their sense of community is when she tells me that they are fortunate enough to own their own car. But in Gelvandale that means that it is really anyone’s car. When there is an emergency or someone has to go to the doctor, even in the middle of the night, they know whose door they can come knocking on. ‘Dit is almal se kar.’ Mrs King also decides that I cannot say I’ve been to PE if I haven’t been in a Sweeper taxi.

Janine has some friends over and I learn how she spent time during her matric exams helping fellow students. She also happens to be a gifted musician and singer. At one point Janine is yacking away with her friends when I totally lose the plot. I sit on the couch, straining to understand what they are all saying. I’m not sure what language they are speaking. Janine takes one look at my face and laughs at my distress. She points out to her friends that I cannot understand their slang. That was Afrikaans? ‘No,’ says Janine. ‘We were speaking coloured.’ Die bou val so …