Finally rain is predicted. Bucket loads of rain too. Capetonians quietly release a sigh of relief. The Almighty finally instructed Mother Nature to look with favour upon the province.
The voicemail lady is somehow in tune and promises that the trains are only five minutes late. She has a ‘not-to-worry’ tone in her voice.
“I’m nogals excited for the predicted rain that’s coming. My garden was in dire straits,” a guy says to the friend next to him as he pulls up his jacket collar to shield him against the morning breeze.
“Spare a thought for the homeless and vulnerable,” the friend replies.
“Yeeeesss,” he whispers through his teeth, sounding impatient.
He then takes a glance at his watch; followed by a stare into the distance down the railway line.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ the friend asks curiously. “What are you thinking?” the other one asks.
The friend is silent for a moment then with a twinkle in his eyes says: “The train has been capture.”
They burst out laughing.
“That’s a good one,” he says after gathering himself. “But then again what isn’t captured? Apparently all government SOE’s are captured,” he says shrugging his shoulders.
After waiting a second he continues: “We are so far removed from the people shall govern, it’s like we never believed it in the first place.”
The friend nods approvingly. “My life has been captured man; nothing belongs to me. My car and house belong to the bank. My salary just briefly visits me every month. Bills to pay; commitments to meet; if I’m lucky I at least have something left for an end of month braai. At times that doesn’t happen either,” the friend moans without sounding too downhearted.
“Moenie praatie ou bra,” the guy says adjusting his collar again. He quickly turns his face to see if the train is coming. “I told the wife ‘Yes Madame, I’m sorry but you have to cut on shopping, buying; spending just because the money is in your purse. You better cut some corners,’” he explains without checking whether his friend is listening. It’s almost as if he is thinking out loud.
“I don’t have to tell my wife that. She knows the drill. We are just about scraping through. Sometimes sit ôs broeke se agterkant nog annie draad vas,” the friend explains further.
“Wanne kommie trein man?” the guy with the upturned collars asks impatiently.
The friend looks at him thoughtfully. “I think it’s Bob Marley who sings ‘The Zion train is coming our way,’” he says staring down the track.
“Aweh… For a moment I thought that train did arrive… but we shouldn’t lose hope… That train is coming,” the guy with the upturned collars philosophises.
“Yeah, with MetroPlus carriages for all,” the friend adds.
At that moment the signal turns green…
***
Urban Dictionary
moenie – The Afrikaans word is a shortened form of “moet nie” which means “must not” or as in this case “do not”.
praatie – The Afrikaaps word for “praat nie” which is Afrikaans for “speak not”.
broeke – The Afrikaans plural for “broek” which means “(a pair of) pants”.
agterkant – The Afrikaans word for “rear end” which in this case means the “backside of the pants”.
annie – An Afrikaaps word for “aan die” which means “on the”.
wane – The Afrikaaps plural for “wanneer” which means “when”.
kommie – The Afrikaas word for “kom die” which means “comes the”.
“Moenie praatie ou bra.” – “Don’t talk (about it) old friend.”
“Sometimes sit ôs broeke se agterkant nog annie draad vas” – “Sometimes the backsides of our pants are still caught on the wire” (A term used to describe that fact that you’ve just about escaped a situation or as in this case, scraped through your financial situation.)
“Wanne kommie trein man?” – “When is the train coming man?”