“The train from Wellington to Cape Town will arrive in 5 minutes,” the voicemail lady announces. It’s autumn. The morning has a slight bite to it. That’s a warning not to get too comfortable with Cape Town’s unpredictable weather patterns.

A ‘bergie’ walks past with an empty trolley looking to gather the day’s produce in order to make a living.

“Julle moet lekker werk en mooi loop,” he remarks whilst the wrinkles on his face tell the story of a tough life on the streets.

“Meirre, kom djy of wat?” he shouts over his shoulder to a woman following in the distance.

“Ja jirre, djy’s impatient,” she replies, still busy arranging her “doekie” fiddling with the knot behind her head.

“Die tyd waggie vi’ ôssie,” he mumbles back at her.

The light turns green and the siren sounds in the distance. The train is exactly on time. On board the mood is upbeat with many conversations going. A strange odour fills the carriage.

“Ek kan mossie help assie goed funny rykie. Ek kry ’n geluk met kriefsterre soe die Easter impress ek my family,” a guy with a plastic bag explains to a friend.

“Ja maa’ amal trek hul gesigte as hulle inklim. Djy kan bieterre organise het,” the friend chirps.

“Hulle kan maa’ gesigte trek. Ek sien nooit mense trek gesigte wanne dit gaar en reg issie,” Mr Crayfish replies.

A moment of silence falls between them. The friend curiously looks at the bag and asks, “Hoevil is daa’ innie sak eksê bra?”

Another moment of silence follows. The look on Mr Crayfish’s face is even more curious.

“Ek het twinag innie sak. Hoekom?”

The friend’s eyes light up as he exclaims, “Djy kan mos vyf afstaan bra, dan sê ek virrie ougirl om n lekke slaaitjie aanmekaa’ te slat.”

Mr Crayfish refuses to reply for a few moments, then taking his time he says: “Ou broe, ek kom uit ‘ie nightshift. Laat ek ees byrie hys kom en gat slaap. Ek laat wiet jou vanaan’ wee’ of miskien is daa’ nog oor vannie shipment.”

He yawns tiredly without covering his mouth.

At Salt River station the strange smell leaves.

Two “bergies” enter the carriage bringing their own unique smell with them… not much different to the smell which has just left us.

Yes in Cape Town we take our own weather with us… everywhere we go.

***

Urban Dictionary

bergie – The Cape Town slang word for a vagrant / homeless
person. Possibly dates back to when Cape Town’s
homeless people lived in caves on Table Mountain
and “berg” being the Afrikaans word for “mountain”.

Meirre – A different Afrikaaps version of “meide” which is the
plural for “meid” and is a derogatory term first used
by Cape Dutch colonialists and later Afrikaners to refer
to Khoi & Malay women who were usually their
“maids” but later used by them for any woman of
colour. However in this case the plural is used referring
to the singular and intended as a term of endearment by
a man of colour addressing the woman in his life.
Sometimes “Meirre” is also give as a nickname.

jirre – Afrikaaps for the Afrikaans word “here” pronounced
like “hea/rer” which means “lord” and used
expressively as a statement of different emotions.

Doekie – Also “doek” used in many cultures across South Afrika,
it is the Afrikaans word for a cloth “headscarf”.

kriefsterre – The Afrikaaps word for “kreef sterte” which is
Afrikaans for “crayfish tails”.

bieterre – A different Afrikaaps version of “bieter” which is from
the Afrikaans word “beter” which means “better”.

twinag – The Afrikaaps version of “twintig” which is Afrikaans
for “twenty”.

afstaan Afrikaans word for “set aside something you are
willing to share” in this case but can also mean to “not
stand up for someone in their defence”.
“Hy sal my afstaan.”
“He will not stand up for me in my defence.”

ougirl – An Afrikaaps word derived from “old girl” which in
some cases can mean “wife” and in some cases mean
“mother”.

slaaitjie – Literally means “small salad” in Afrikaans.

shipment – In Cape Town slang a “shipment” specifically refers to
an illegally acquired batch of items intended for sale
on the black market.

“Meirre, kom djy of wat?”
“Woman, are you coming or what?”

“Ja jirre, djy’s impatient.”
“Yes lord, you’re impatient.”

“Die tyd waggie vi’ ôssie.”
“The time does not wait for us.”

“Ek kan mossie help assie goed funny rykie. Ek kry ’n geluk met kriefsterre soe die Easter impress ek my family.”
“I can’t help it if these things smell funny. I got a lucky deal on crayfish tails, so this Easter I’m impressing my family.”

“Ja maa’ amal trek hul gesigte as hulle inklim. Djy kan bieterre organise het.”
“Yes but everyone is pulling their face when they get in. You could have organised it much better.”

“Hulle kan maa’ gesigte trek. Ek sien nooit mense trek gesigte wanne dit gaar en reg issie.”
“They can go ahead and pull their faces. I never see people pulling their faces when it is cooked and ready.”

“Hoevil is daa’ innie sak eksê bra?”
“How many are in the bag buddy?”

“Ek het twinag innie sak. Hoekom?”
“I have twenty in the bag. Why?”

“Djy kan mos vyf afstaan bra, dan sê ek virrie ougirl om n lekke slaaitjie aanmekaa’ te slat.”
“You could set aside five for me, then I tell the old girl to toss up a nice little salad.”

“Ou broe, ek kom uit ‘ie nightshift. Laat ek ees byrie hys kom en gat slaap. Ek laat wiet jou vanaan’ wee’ of miskien is daa’ nog oor vannie shipment.”
“Old buddy, I’ve just come out of a night shift. Let me first get home and go sleep. I will let you know tonight again or perhaps there will be some left over from the shipment.”