What it's like to walk in fresh snow

All my life I used to think how pretty snow looked in the distance on top of the mountains.  My first experience of snow was when I lived in New Zealand.  We were fresh off the boat, so to speak, had only been in New Zealand a few weeks and decided to drive down to the Lake Taupo region to look at the snow capped Mount Ruapehu.  We were excited.  We were actually going to touch snow for the very first time.
Well...
We did not realise that you had to wear proper clothes for the snow.  So to say we were under-equipped, is a gross understatement.  My youngest daughter had a beanie and wellington boots.  My son had a beanie and a jacket.  My eldest daughter and myself didn't have anything suitable for snow.  We found out the hard way, that snow is cold and wet and not powdery dry stuff.  Jeans and sneakers are not proper snow gear.  After standing around in the snow without gloves in icy cold wind for about five minutes, my youngest started crying and wanted to go home.  So we trudged through the snow to the restaurant, had a hot chocolate, and drove the 4 hours back to our home in Pukekohe.  That was our first snow experience.  We subsequently went to Queenstown in winter wearing the correct clothing and it was a much better experience.
As a family we experienced snow in South Korea, and again when we lived in China.
But I guess as an empty-nester I have experienced the most snow - when I lived in Ukraine and now that I live in Norway.
While I love sitting next to the window watching snow gently float down to earth outside, I am not a snow fan.  I reckon it's genetic.  Although my DNA test does have me as 10% Norwegian and Swedish.  Many of my friends around the world who have not yet encountered snow as I have, often ask what it's like to walk in snow.  Well let me explain it like this.  Walking on fresh snow is like a combination of walking on bubble wrap and thick sand.  With each step the fresh snow cracks and pops as if you are stepping on bubble wrap.  But then the effort of walking on snow is the same as the effort of walking in thick sand.  I do enjoy walking on fresh snow though.  Old icy snow is a different story!
Cindy Vine is a South African author and teacher currently living and working in Norway.  She is the author of Not Telling, Hush Baby and The Freedom Club - all available on Amazon in both ebook and paperback formats.

When Social Media takes control of Your Life

Yeah Social Media…love it or hate it but it is everywhere.  Despite our best intentions, we can’t seem to live without it.  Social Media enables procrastinators to…well, procrastinate.  Okay, let’s rephrase that.  Social Media enables me to procrastinate.  And how do I know this?  Well…

Holed up in Havana, Cuba, without any WIFI, I am actually writing a blog post.  Today I’ve written TWO book reviews, a blog post for my cindyvinetravels.com blog and this blog post.  That’s more than I achieve in an average weekend!

It’s not that I have writer’s block.

It’s not that I don’t have a myriad of things to write about.

It’s not that I don’t have the time.

It’s that…I sort of get distracted.  I have to check my Twitter for any notifications and status updates of those in the Writing Community I belong to.  And then I have to check Facebook to see if anybody commented on my post, anybody posted something exciting that I want to comment on, anybody in either one of my Youtube FB groups, or FB writing groups or one of the Travel FB groups I belong to posted anything interesting, or asked a question I can answer.  Then I have to go on Youtube to watch the news and any new videos uploaded from my subscriptions.  In between I might make myself a coffee, or breakfast or lunch and before I know it, it’s dinner and I am WTF where did the day go?

I think I have a problem.

There is no point in having creative genes if social media stops you from wearing them.  (That was a pun!)

I love to write so why the hell don’t I do more of it?  What about the novel and cookbook I have to finish?  Okay, long story cut short.  I was nearly finished with Diary of a Dancer and the cookbook.  Both unfinished manuscripts were on my laptop that was stolen out of the principal’s office while I was doing a school visit.  True story.  To start from the beginning again on both projects that were close to completion has sort of demotivated me.  I did write The Freedom Club last year, I managed to break away from social media to do that!  However, I couldn’t break away enough to do marketing.  Yep, marketing books, t-shirts, it’s a real schlep and I’ll eagerly jump onto social media to avoid doing it.

I admit it.  Social media has control of my life.  Oh, did I forget to mention Instagram?  I did, didn’t I? And Pinterest.  I am doomed.

So, what am I going to do about it?  I guess that is the logical question.

I think I need to structure my weekends and my life a little more.  I need to block time to do my social media things, and make sure that it doesn’t encroach on my writing time.  I need to, shall I say it, become more disciplined.

I’m not going to remove social media from my life.  That would just be counter-productive.  I do need it for my marketing, and I do need to be a part of the different communities I belong to.  But, I need to restrict my access to certain times so that I can still create and not stagnate.

I can’t let it dictate how I spend my day.

And I can’t let it be the reason that I don’t have time to write.

I have the time, I just need to set little boundaries for my social media time.

Thank you Havana for no WIFI! (And I’m not being sarcastic!)

I can do this!

I will do this!

I will take back my life!

Cindy Vine is a South African author and teacher currently living in Norway.  She is the author of numerous novels including Not Telling, Defective, Hush Baby, CU@8 and The Freedom Club.  All her books are available on Amazon.com in both ebook and paperback format.  The Freedom Club is available in Spanish and Portuguese.  You can find out about her novels http://cindyvine.com

For her travel blog http://cindyvinetravels.com

For her musings http://cindy-vine.blogspot.com

Follow Cindy on Facebook https://facebook.com/cindyvinefanpage

Follow her on Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest @cindyvine

And, if you enjoy travel and travel videos, subscribe to her Youtube Channel http://www.youtube.com/c/CindyVine

Cindy Vine Travels

 
This is the channel trailer I made for my Youtube Travel Channel.  It's really short, under a minute, and won't take you long to watch it!
Please subscribe to my Youtube Channel for more Travel destinations and tips.  It's free and won't impact your life in any way but will help me a lot!
Cindy Vine is a South African currently living and working in Norway.  She is the author of Not Telling, Defective and Hush Baby to name a few. All her books are available on Amazon.com in both Kindle and Paperback format.  You can find out more about her books by going to http://cindyvine.com.

Mistakes you make when Traveling

Have you ever ordered a meal off a menu because the picture looked like the meal would be delicious?  Did the meal live up to the expectations you had from the photo on the menu?
On a recent visit to Istanbul, I went to a local restaurant in a shopping mall.  They had posters of a delicious looking steak that was on special displayed all around the restaurant.  Of course all the writing on the posters was in Turkish.  As I can't read Turkish and the waiter couldn't speak English. I had to go by the picture.
BIG MISTAKE!

When the steak arrived my immediate observation was that it wasn't actually a steak, but rather thin slices of meat placed on flatbread.  I shrugged and decided if it tasted good, then all was fine in my world.  Before I could shovel the first forkful into my mouth, the waiter arrived with a pot filled with melted butter which he proceeded to pour over my meal.  I was aghast!  I have never been able to handle anything too oily and fatty.  Even cream makes me want to throw up.  Looking at my meal swimming in a sea of melted butter, I could feel my stomach heave.  Not wanting to waste money, I managed to pick off the slices of meat to eat, while trying not to look at the flatbread which was now sodden and soggy with the melted butter.  I bravely ate that meat while glaring at the misleading posters, fighting back the nausea.  For several hours afterwards, I felt physically ill.
The lesson to be learned, don't pick a meal based on a picture on the menu.
I guess another lesson could be not to order from a menu not written in English.  On a visit to Gabon, I went to a cute beach-side restaurant in Libreville.  The menu was in French, and the waitresses only spoke French.  My French is limited to words like 'restaurant' and 'bureau.'  I thought 'poisson' was the French for chicken, and was shocked to be served a very fishy stew with fish heads!
Maybe I'm a slow learner.

A couple of weeks ago, I was visiting Frankfurt.  Knowing that I would be arriving at the airport in time to board and I would't be able to check in luggage, I took a small carry-on and left behind my face cream, deodorant and toothpaste.  My thought was that I could buy toiletries in Frankfurt.  Also, as my residence card was about to expire, I didn't want to have any products in my bag that might draw attention to me, causing someone to ask me for identification.  One of the great things about traveling through the Schengen region, is that you aren't often asked to show identification.  But, I wanted to avoid chancing my luck.  However, on visiting the supermarket near my hotel in Frankfurt, I found identifying face cream to be a problem.  Toothpaste and deodorant were easily identifiable.  Browsing through the products on display, I decided to go with something that sounded familiar.  It said 'Creme' and 'Body Butter.'  Now I have to state, I use body butter from The Body Shop, as I find it works well on my sensitive skin.  The first time I tried the 'creme' on my face, it felt tight afterwards and stung a little bit.  The next day it stung even more and my skin started going red.  Stupidly, I used the 'creme' a third and then a fourth day.  By the fourth day my face was very red and burning.  I decided to wash my face to remove remnants of the 'creme.'  To my horror as I wet my face it started to foam.  It was at that point I realised that the 'creme' was not what I thought it was.  A closer look at the bottle showed the word 'douche' after the word 'creme.'  A German-speaking friend confirmed my worst fears.  The face cream I had been using on my ultra-sensitive skin for four days was actually Shower Gel!  No wonder my face felt tight, turned red and foamed when I washed it!

The Frankfurt visit influenced decisions I made for my Finland visit the following week.
I made three bad decisions.  The first one was to pack in my toiletries so that I didn't have to risk buying a wrong product in Finland as I can't read Finnish.  I didn't want a repeat of the 'creme douche' incident.  The second one was to send my passport away to another embassy to get a visa.  This effectively meant that I would be traveling to another country without a passport.  I didn't see this as a problem as nobody had wanted to see my residence card or passport when I left Frankfurt.  The third mistake was deciding to check-in my bag because I had packed in toiletries.
Well, the airline lady asked me for my passport when I tried to check-in my bag.  She refused to accept a certified copy of it or my now renewed residence card.  Instead, she canceled my flights right there and then.  This should have been devastating as I was leading a workshop the next day and people were counting on me.  Instead, I went to the airport Starbucks, not for a coffee, but to use their table so I could set up my laptop.  I quickly bought new plane tickets on a different airline.  I did not check-in my bag, but took it as hand luggage, my toiletries setting off the alarm.  Luckily, all I had to do was remove them from my bag and put them in a clear plastic ziploc bag they gave me.  Thank goodness nobody asked me for identification on the two flights to Oulu in Finland and the two flights back. 
Desperate times call for desperate measures. 
I blame this all on the toiletries!
Sometimes I think these kinds of things only happen to me.  Maybe it's because I am a risk-taker, who knows.
Cindy Vine is a South African living and working in Norway.  Cindy is the author of Hush Baby, The Freedom Club, Not Telling, CU@8, Defective and The Case of Billy B.  All her books are available on Amazon in both paperback and e-book format. http://cindyvine.com 

Why do People Bully?

Statistics show that 1 out of every 2 people will have experienced bullying of some kind by the time they turn 20.  That's a frightening statistic!  Unfortunately, bullying doesn't miraculously stop when a person turns 20.  Many adults are bullied by their spouse, so called 'friends' and even at their place of work.  Bullying is not limited to children's school playgrounds.  Bullying is everywhere and little is being done to stop it.  Bullies are not being held accountable for their actions.
And it starts at the top.
Which brings me to Donald Trump.  He's the epitome of a bully and it seems to be okay.  Calling people names, giving them nasty nicknames, belittling them, and posting it on social media is nothing more than cyber-bullying.  Imagine a whole generation of children using Donald Trump as their role-model and mimicking his antics on social media. 
Scary stuff, isn't it?
So why do people bully others?
Are they all just sadistic sociopaths?
Or is there an underlying reason for their behavior?
These are the ten top reasons why people bully
1.  Jealousy.  The bully could be jealous of your popularity, your relationships, something you own or wear, your intelligence, your looks - basically anything you have that they feel they don't.  Therefore, to compensate for their lack they'll put you down or make you pay.
2.  Sucky home life.  Some people feel the need to share the suckiness of their life with others.  If things aren't going so well at home, they might inadvertently create that same environment at work.  Or they might feel if their life is a misery they may as well make everyone else's life a misery.
3.  Low self-esteem.  There are those who feel that they are not good enough.  So they try and crush all those around them to make themselves look better.
4.  Power-hungry narcissists.  These are the control-freak types who are addicted to power.  There is no reason for them to bully other than the power-rush it gives them.  They just thrive on lording it over everybody.  It's all about their ego.
5.  Stress or trauma.  Some bullies start acting out after they have experienced a traumatic event in their life or are under stress.  They project negative behaviors to try and disguise what is going on in their life.
6.  Aggression.  Some people are just mean and they enjoy hurting others.  No other explanation needed.
7.  Attention-seeking.  Then you get the bullies that just want people to notice them and want to be the center of attention.  The attention junkies.  They will do anything to get a laugh or to get noticed, even if it involves putting someone else down.
8.  Victims of bullying themselves.  Many bullies were once bullied themselves.  Their parents instructed them to fight back, so bullying others is a kind of a defense mechanism to protect themselves from ever being a victim again.  Bully them first before they bully you.
9.  Acceptance.  Some bully others so they can be accepted into the popular group, or because they think it might give them a higher ranking in their clique.  This is a kind of pack-mentality.
10. Lack of empathy.  These bullies pick on people who are different in some way.  Often they don't understand how it feels to be a little different, so they will ridicule others out of ignorance.  They pick on others because they think it is funny.
Whatever the reasons behind the bullying, it must stop.  The long-term effect bullying has on a person's psyche is phenomenal.  It will impact current and future relationships.  It might even become so bad, that the bullying victim decides to seek revenge.  If you are being bullied, then you need to report it to someone.
Cindy Vine is an author and teacher who has experienced bullying in all its terrible forms.  She is the author of Not Telling, Hush Baby and Defective.  Her new YA novel, The Freedom Club, has just been released.  All her books are available on Amazon is both ebook and paperback format.

Things I learned being a Mother

I was 21 when I had my first baby, turning 22 the very next day.  No matter how many books or articles you read on the subject, nothing prepares you for it.  From that first cry, you are thrown into the deep end and there is no other option but to swim.
As a single mother I learned how to be resourceful and always have a Plan B or Plan C to fall back on, because very rarely did Plan A work out.

Carrying a little life inside you for 9 months creates a bond that is unbreakable.  The love you feel for that child will always be there, even in dark times when they turn against you and say the meanest things ever, you will always be ready to forgive because you are their Mom.
When they achieve success, you watch from the sidelines and it feels as if your heart might burst from pride.  You share in their disappointments and heartaches and it feels like your heart may break.
No matter where in the world they may be, they are resident in your heart and will never face eviction.
Mother's Day memories of little feet tiptoeing around the house, plates and pans banging in the kitchen before being served breakfast in bed.  Those memories I'll forever hold dear now that I am alone and my nest is empty.  The handmade cards, smiling happy faces, family times dominate my memory bank.
A mother will sometimes have to make difficult choices, will take risks, leave her comfort zone if there's a chance it will benefit her children.  They won't always know why you did what you did and made a certain choice.  You have to remember that only you knew the big picture, and the small piece they have is seen from their perspective.
The family squabbles and laughter will ensure the house is never quiet, until they have grown up and left the nest and the silence will echo through the empty rooms.
Being a mother isn't always easy, the responsibility of shaping young lives is huge, and doing it all by yourself is even harder.  But boy is it worth it!  The little grubby hand in yours, the head against your chest, the voice saying, "I love you Momsy," all make the most precious memories to cherish for the rest of your life.
My children gave me the Gift of Love and made me who I am today.  A mother first and everything else second.
To my children, I am so proud of every single one of you.  We might hardly ever see each other, all of us in different countries, but we'll always be a family and you'll always be loved.
Thanks for the memories!
Cindy Vine is a South African living and working in Norway.  She is the author of Hush Baby, Defective, Not Telling and CU@8.  All of her books are available on Amazon in both paperback and kindle format.

Romance Scam Alert!

Most people are familiar with the TV Show Catfish, and how the hosts expose young people pretending to be something they are not and fooling some gullible person online.  People fall in love with someone who seems to be the only person in the world who understands them.  All they have is a photo or two, and a range of excuses why they can't actually meet, can't video chat, can't talk on the phone.  We see the show, know how it's done, so why do we continue to fall for these scams?
We have all been warned about the scams involving a Nigerian prince, Ghanaian politician, an heir to a fortune, all needing your help in getting the money out of their country.  People attracted to the prospect of making easy money by helping someone, find themselves with their bank accounts emptied.
The scary thing, is that some of these romance scammers are targeting elderly women, and conning them out of their life savings.  And they are repeatedly getting away with it.
You might be wondering, how does someone fall for one of these scams?  What you have to remember, is that the people they are targeting are not as technology and internet savvy as we are.  They get a message on their Facebook or Linkedin, (that one of their children probably set up for them) and they open it and have no reason not to believe the sender isn't genuine.  Picture this, a lonely widow/divorcee over the age of 70, living alone with lots of time on her hands, gets a message from a man telling her he`s attracted to her smile.  Nobody comments on her smile anymore, and she's flattered.  Right there and then she's hooked and takes the bait.  What follows is an online romance that will end in tears.
The Nigerian scammers, in particular, use a tried and tested formula.
1.  They set up a fake profile on Linkedin or Facebook, use an alias, and have a stock of photos of a real person they have stolen off the internet.  To make themselves more appealing, they will have a desirable career or profession.
2.  They trawl through Facebook and Linkedin looking for potential targets, older women who were professionals in their day, who look like they might have money in the bank.
3.  They send the woman a private message with a flattering comment.  If she replies, they follow up with more flattering prose, much of it copied and pasted off greeting card websites.  The woman can't believe her good fortune, someone is finally paying her attention again.  They send her a stolen

photo, and she is pleasantly surprised that such a good looking man is interested in her.  Photos of men in US Military uniform is quite common, but if they are not targeting someone in the US, then they tend to use the photos of Joe Cross.  Joe Cross is a health food guru in Australia.  Unfortunately, his photos have been stolen off his website and social media pages, and are being sent out to unsuspecting victims.
4.  Once the woman is hooked, they will tell her to rather do voice chats on Whatsapp.  This is better than email, they will say, and also so they can hear her beautiful voice.  Of course, this means that when they start asking for money, there will be no written trace of it.
5.  They will explain that they can't do video chats or skype because their phone doesn't have that capability.  They can't phone as they are based overseas and that would be too expensive.
6.  They will call the woman several times a day, and every night to build up that love connection and to prove that they really care.  Eventually, that poor old woman is just waiting for their phone calls.
7.  They will spin the woman a story about how it's their child's birthday and they can't afford to buy a present because all their money is tied up in a big project they are working on.  The woman will be cunningly manipulated to send money so that they can buy their child a phone for their birthday.  But they are not planning on using the money to buy a phone and there isn't a child.  This first request for money is the taster.  If the woman falls for it, then they know that they have landed themselves a winner.  If she doesn't, they dump her and move on to the next victim.
8.  They will keep on with the daily phone calls on Whatsapp, supposedly sharing intimate details of their lives while encouraging the woman to do the same.  They will tell the woman about a big project they are working on in a foreign country, like a bridge they are building, and how as soon as they have finished the project, they will come to the woman's country and marry her.  They will start referring to her as Wife.
9.  Unfortunately, they have to put the wedding on hold as they aren't able to finish the bridge as they have run out of money.  But when the bridge is finished, they will get a huge payout.  If the woman can just lend them some money to finish the bridge, they will repay it with interest when they get their payout.
10. They can't give the woman their bank account details in a message or email as they are scared of getting hacked.  So their instructions are simple.  When the woman arrives at her bank branch, she has to call her 'husband' on Whatsapp.  He then gives further instructions over the phone, including amount, bank details and account number.  He then instructs the woman to destroy the deposit slip.  By this stage, the woman is so under his spell that she no longer questions anything.  The amounts needed to complete the bridge get more and more, as does the frequency of the requests for more money.  When the money dries up, the romance is over.

The reason why I use 'they' is that this is very rarely a scammer operating on his own.  It's generally a whole syndicate of scammers working together.  The syndicate have this scam down pat.  They know just who to target and leave virtually no paper trail to follow.  You can't trace their phone number because the Whatsapp number they use is a foreign one and is not the same as the local number they are obviously operating on.  Their email address links to a fake IP address.  These guys are very clever.  Everything they do is so that they won't be found.
If you suspect you might be a victm of this romance scam, or know of someone who is, then the best bet is to report it to the police as soon as possible.  If the language in the initial emails is overly flowery, copy and paste it into Google search and if it copied from a greetng card site it will come up.  Definitely investigate further if the language used in the emails alternates between poor English with spelling and grammar mistakes and overly flowery language.  The photo they sent, you can upload into tineye.com and it will tell you where else that photo has been used on the internet.
So if a man randomly contacts you on social media, telling you how beautiful you are and he's in love with your smile, be warned.  If he's a Portuguese or Italian living in London but building a bridge in Jakarta be very afraid.  If he says his name is Gibson Wayne, or he uses a photo of Joe Cross like the one on this post, start running!
Cindy Vine is a South African currently living and working in Norway.  She is the author of the novels Hush Baby, Defective and Not Telling.  All her books are available on Amazon in both paperback and kindle formats.

Here's why you should thank Shithole countries in Africa, Mr Trump!

Donald Trump has always been known to open his mouth to change feet.  The words pour forth from his Parson's Nose lips before he engages his brain.  My Granny always told me to think before you speak.  This is sound advice that Trump should take.  Referring to African countries as 'Shithole Countries' belies him being a stable genius.  Voicing his ignorance shows that he is not very smart at all.  He has no idea of the achievements that have come from the African continent over the years.  Achievements that show the resilience, creativity and indomitable spirit of a people who rise up and make a difference despite where they have come from and the odds against them.  It doesn't matter which country you come from in Africa, in some respects as Nelson Mandela so succinctly said, "All Africa is one." 
Even though America has far more financial resources available than the Shithole African countries Trump so despises, there are certain inventions and discoveries that America, with all the resources at its disposal, was not able to make.  These remarkable feats have made life better for Americans and are helping to make America Great Again.  Mr Trump, you should be honoured that people from Shithole Countries in Africa want to immigrate to your country.
Here are some discoveries and inventions that came from countries in Africa.
1.  The world's first successful heart transplant was performed in South Africa.
2.  The CAT Scan was invented and developed in South Africa.
3.   Scientists in South Africa developed the technology to extract oil from coal.
4.  The swimming pool vacuum cleaner was invented by a South African.
5.  The special glue used to hold together the landing craft in the first moon landing was invented by a South African.
6.  Those 20 ton concrete blocks used in harbours all around the world to protect harbour walls and break up wave action were invented by a South African.
7.  The special spray you put on car engines to help them start easier in cold weather, and to ease squeaky door hinges was invented by a South African.
8.  The Retinal Cryoprobe, a new form of cataract surgery, was developed by a South African.
9.  The Smartlock Safety Syringe which prevents contamination was invented by a South African.
10.  Ancient Egyptians invented and developed so many things that make our lives easier today - Mathematics, Medicine and Surgery, Architecture and Engineering.
11.  Historians reckon that the first speech and language used by early man emerged in Africa.
12.  Mining of minerals and metallurgy originated in Africa.
13.  There is evidence to suggest that Africans sailed to South America and Asia hundreds of years before the Europeans.
14.  The oldest art objects in the world were discovered in Africa.  Africa isn't known as the Cradle of Humankind for nothing!
15.  Coffee as a stimulant, originated in Ethiopia where it grows wild..
16.  Picasso was inspired by African Art.
17.  The mineral used in rechargeable batteries in mobile phones comes from the Democratic Republic of Congo.
18.  Nando's flame-grilled chicken, loved the world over, originated in South Africa.  There's even a branch in Washington DC, Mr Trump, should you decide to eat something other than a cheeseburger.
19.  The concept of Ubunthu - a shared humanity, originated in Africa and was used by Nelson Mandela to help heal a country after apartheid.
20.  Freeplay foetal heart rate monitor which is power free was invented by a South African.
21.  Jazz is based on African rhythms and melodies.
22.  Shea butter used in creams and lip balm was developed in Africa.
23.  The first ever penis transplant was performed in South Africa.
24.  A Nigerian created a device that can detect explosives and cancer cells.
25.  Two Ghanaian women developed an app which is fitted on waste bins to direct the public on proper waste disposal.
26.  A group of Ghanaian scientists and IT professionals developed an Artificial Intelligence Healthcare System.
27.  In Kenya they are making electricity grids that provide power for a whole village.
28.  A Ugandan engineer has designed a biomedical smart jacket which can diagnose pneumonia 3 times faster than a doctor.
29.  A man in Cameroon invented the Cardio Pad, a handheld medical computer tablet which reads a patient's heart function and then sends the results to the heart specialist in the big city via a mobile phone connection.
30.  The founder of Paypal was a South African.
I could go on and on Mr Trump.  Personnel carriers that can drive over landmines, shark shields to protect scuba divers, a military attack helicopter than can make a 360 degree loop, radar system used by professional golfers and the whole concept of prepaid mobile phones - these all came out of Africa.  So the next time you open your mouth to change feet, take a minute first to think about what you are saying and the implications it might have on others.
Cindy Vine is the author of Not Telling, Defective and Hush Baby.  All her books are available on Amazon.com in both Kindle and Paperback format.

Why follow the beaten path?

My whole life has been spent off the beaten path.  It was never intentional.  Never something planned.  It's always just happened spontaneously.  I am on the path following everybody else, and then VWOOMAH!  Everybody has disappeared and I trudge through the thick undergrowth, fighting branches with spiky thorns, to try and find the well-used path again.  The problem is that when I find it, my Dorothy Slippers fly me off somewhere else again.  It is an ongoing battle I'll never win.  There is a part of me that wants to conform, wants to do what everybody else does.  But when an idea presents itself that sounds good at the time, logic has no place in this mind.
Take today for example.  I needed to buy quite a bit of groceries as I have some recipes planned for tomorrow that I want to try out.  Usually, I only buy what I can carry in my backpack which is quite limiting when you have big things planned.  But today my backpack was already full of wool I had bought to knit myself a sweater during the long cold evenings.  When I arrived at the supermarket, I decided to be smart and only take a wheelie basket, as you can't fit that much in it.
I should have realised that it is Cindy we are dealing with here.
Soon my wheelie basket was so full that I couldn't force another item into it, and had to carry the bag of flour in my hands while pushing the overflowing basket, having to stop periodically to try and pick up items that fell out.  This proved to be quite difficult, as I had to keep holding the handle of the wheelie basket so that it didn't fall down and knock groceries off the shelf, with one hand, and carry the bag of flour with the other.  I tried my best not to look frazzled.
With all this going on, I forgot to look at my shopping list I had spent a large part of the morning drawing up.
At the checkout, I was pleased that my groceries only filled 4 large shopping bags.  My triumphant smile as I packed them soon turned to despair as I tried to lift them.  It felt like I had gone to a quarry and bought rocks.  What the hell did I buy?  I staggered to the escalator, wondering how the hell I was going to walk the length of the Mall carrying 4 large bags filled with rocks.  As I approached the first escalator, I realised that I no longer had any feeling in my fingers and that I was about to drop my groceries.  Glancing down, I noticed my fingers had changed colour and were either as white as the snow outside, or as purple as an alcoholic's nose.  It was at that point I realised that conforming was not going to work.
I turned around and staggered back to the supermarket, paid a deposit for the shopping trolley, and blissfully packed my grocery bags and very full backpack into it.  Flexing my fingers, I managed to get some of the feeling back.

Where I stay, the taxi rank is at the train station, about 100m from the shopping mall.  As I exited the Mall and began to push my laden shopping trolley through the snow, I became aware of strange looks from the locals walking past me.  It was true that nobody else was pushing a shopping trolley outside, and I did seem to be the only one, but at the time I didn't realise that I was leaving the beaten path again.  Until my shopping trolley got stuck in the snow!
No matter what I did, I couldn't make it budge.  Luckily, a kind Dad with his two young children pushed it from behind while I pulled it from the front.  He first spoke to me in Norwegian, but when I explained that I hadn't yet mastered the language, he explained in English that nobody ever takes a trolley out of the Mall and this was the first time he had ever seen anybody attempt it.
Maybe I have started a new trend.
Cindy Vine currently lives in Norway and is the author of Not Telling, Defective and Hush Baby.  All her books are available at Amazon.com in both Kindle and Paperback format.

2018 - The Year of...?

In the Chinese Horoscope, 2018 is the Year of the Brown Dog.  I'm not sure what that means for me.  As I think about the year ahead, I have absolutely no idea what lays ahead.  I have no plans, no agenda, no secret dreams.  2018 is like one giant blank canvas.  I have not drawn pencil outlines of New Year's resolutions.  In fact, I haven't even taken the blank canvas out of the cupboard.
Prepare to be surprised.
Believe you me, nobody will be more more surprised than me.
I am tired of setting goals that I know I'll never keep.  So for me, 2018 is going to be the Year of Winging It.

Whatever comes up and feels right, I'll do.  If I can't be bothered then I won't.  I'm not going to be actively seeking and definitely not going to be planning.

There is a certain comfort in not being restricted by the boundaries of a plan for the year.  I don't have to conform to fit in.  I can build my box as materials land on my doorstep.  The choice of the amount of box openings and the direction they open, does not have to be made in advance.  In fact, I might not even put my life in a box in 2018.  The sky really is the limit and it's rejuvenating.

Cindy Vine is the author of Not Telling, Defective and Hush Baby.  All her books are available on Amazon in both Paperback and Kindle format.

Why Technology cannot find you Love

When technology works it's awesome.  However, when it doesn't do what you want it to it's a pain in the nether regions and I hate it and curse its invention.
What Technology can't do, is find you love.  Whatever the internet dating sites' ads may say.  Because people lie.

Many years ago I belonged to an internet dating site.  Yes, I confess.  Living in a new country, I thought it would be the best way to meet people and make friends.  The men were generally on the site for one thing and one thing only.  And, it was not to make friends.  I soon realised that internet dating was for men too cheap to pay for prostitutes.  They figured, get online and get the sex for free.  I used a lot of these internet dating adventures in my book C U @ 8.  Basically, people lie in their profiles and what they are looking for.  The person you meet rarely matches the person in the profile.  At times it was hilarious and at other times a little frightening.  People are just too trusting.
Now I see the younger folk on Tinder.  Similar to internet dating, still reliant on Technology.  Just a swipe and you can meet your match.  Hmmmm.  After having my daughter shove her phone in my face so that I can see self-absorbed adonises with six-packs post their selfies all over Tinder, I have not changed my mind about Technology.  If the guy really looked as good as he does in his selfie, he would have women tripping over each other to get to him.  He is either lying or on Tinder for one thing....Free Sex.  He has no intention of finding love.
Yep, I'm a cynic.
But this brings me onto another site I am trying to delete off my computer, one that I never signed up for.  One that sends invites to my friends on my email list.  One that fills up my Spam folder with messages from people who supposedly like me, viewed my non-existent profile, or replied to the messages I never sent.  This site is a sham and doesn't seem to let me unsubscribe.  Not that I ever subscribed in the first place.  This is when I seriously hate Technology that allows people to steal my information and set up fake profiles.  This is when Technology seriously sucks.
There are the few random people who feel they found the love of their life on the internet.  These stories are always pasted all over the gossip magazines.  I remain unconvinced.
Catfish is a TV series made about the lies people tell online.  You can be whoever you want to be online and tell the other person what it is you think they want to hear.  How do you know the truth from the lies?
Really, nothing beats meeting someone the old-fashioned way, without the help of Technology.  At least then you know what you are getting.  That the 36 year old six foot four hunk isn't really a married arthritic 70 year old that's 5 foot 4 and wears size 4 shoes.  (You know what they say about a man's feet!)  I say, delete all that crap and go out there and talk to people in the flesh.  If you're a fake, you'll encourage fakes.  Or flakes!  There are creeps and stalkers out there, men and women.  We have to be a lot more careful and a lot less trusting than we are.
There is more to falling in love than a hot pic, well-written profile and a computer-generated algorhythm saying you are a match!
Cindy Vine lives in Cape Town, South Africa, and is the author of The Case of Billy B, Not Telling, Defective, C U @ 8 and Hush Baby.  You can buy her books on Amazon or find out more on her website http:cindyvine.com.

Last One Standing, my thoughts on Christmas

My earliest memories of Christmas are of pretending to be asleep and watching my Mom, Aunts and Granny fill the Christmas stocking at the end of my bed in Gordon's Bay.
Christmas was always family time filled with love, laughter, noise and good food.
Family came from all over, there were people everywhere.  Christmas was the day people put aside differences and were a united loving family.
As I grew up and became a teenager, I became a part of a blended family.  Christmases were not always on Christmas Day, but it was still devoted to quality family time, catching up with each other, enjoying each other's company.  There would still be a big group sharing lunch on Christmas Day itself, and you would always eat way too much, but love being a part of a big, loving family.
When we had Christmases overseas, we opened our home to others, although I remember a Christmas in Goa and another in New York, where it was just myself and my son Tony and daughter Siobhan.  It was awful not having Kerri with us, as if a vital part of our family was missing.  In Goa, we joined together with other holidaymakers.  In New York, we went to a Mafia Family Italian Restaurant, got way too much food and had it wrapped up and gave it to a homeless man sitting in his wheelchair on the street.
Memories.
That's all Christmas is now.
Memories of what it used to be, a time focused around family.
Now I feel like the last one standing.
The rest of my family spend Christmas with their new families.
Tony and Kerri are working overseas and not home for Christmas.
It's just Siobhan, my mother and myself trying to make Christmas feel like family time, just the three of us, alienated from the world.
I feel sad.
Christmas has now become a time of sadness, a time of anxiety, a time of loneliness.
The last couple of days my eyes start to well with tears every time I think about Christmas.
Whereas in the past I looked forward to this day with excitement, now I can't wait for it to pass.  It has become an agony for my soul.
People say but Christmas is the day to celebrate the birth of Jesus.  Historically it has been proven he wasn't born on Christmas Day.  Christmas is and always will be a day to celebrate being a part of a family.  Well, that's what it means to me anyway.
I feel like I am no longer a part of a family.  I understand that things change over time and the family breaks apart and forms new families and have new family traditions.  It just hurts that I am not part of that.
For me family was everything.
Now it is nothing.
As everybody celebrates with their new families, I am the last one standing.  The last one to remember when being a part of a large family celebrating Christrmas was everything.
So I'll make the traditional Christmas meal, way too much food as now we only feed three.
I'll shed my tears for the times gone by.  Treasure my memories of the shouts of excitement as the children dug into their Christmas stockings, the anticipation as we all gathered around the tree and handed out gifts to each other.  I am grateful that I have those memories of family Christmases.  The times when I used to agonise over what would be the best. most original gift to buy someone.  Because in those days, you bought gifts for every family member, no matter the cost.
I'll wish all a Merry Christmas as that is the expected thing to do.
But this what I have now isn't Christmas.  Christmas is about family.
And as the last one standing I'll cherish my memories of family Christmases, love, laughter, joy and togetherness.

Cindy Vine lives in Cape Town, South Africa.  She is the author of Not Telling, C U @ 8, Defective, Hush Baby and The Case of Billy B.  You can buy her books on Amazon in Kindle or Paperback format.

When an Old Woman goes Backpacking

I haven't felt as old as I did when I went backpacking in Amsterdam recently.  Amsterdam is an awesome city and I loved it.  Lots to see and do, great restaurants (and coffee houses), fantastic public transport.  A great place to visit.
However, not having the money to blow on luxury accommodation, I decided to stay in a backpackers that was amazingly cheap.  Unbelievably cheap.  Only 21 euros for 3 nights kind of cheap.  It was really cheap.

When I arrived, the fire truck was loading a stretcher through a window across the road.  The taxi driver explained that as the stairs are so steep and narrow, sick people often need help to get to the doctor and that's where the fire brigade comes in.  This should have warned me about what was to come.
I paid the taxi driver and wheeled my suitcase to the entrance of the backpacker.  What I saw made my hair stand on end.  Stairs so steep and so narrow, I thought I was climbing up Angkor Wat in Cambodia!  I looked at my big turquoise suitcase and looked again at the stairs.  There was no way in hell I was going to make it up the stairs with my suitcase.

I looked right and left but there was nobody I could ask for help.  I was just going to have to adjust my big-girl panties and do it myself.  These stairs were not for the sick or inebriated.  I could see why a sick person had to be lifted out the window.
The steps were so narrow only your ball of your foot could fit on them.  Thank goodness I did not take my Crocs on holiday with me.  These stairs are not made for people who wear Crocs.
The stairs were not for peole like me either.
I mentally calculated how many times I would have to navigate the stairs during my stay there and quickly decided that I would limit myself to going down the stairs in the morning and going up the stairs at night.  I would just have to amuse myself during the day.
Taking a deep breath, I managed to glide up the stairs dragging my suitcase behind me, rather like a hippopotamus trying to fly a kite in a cyclone.
I nearly cried with relief when I made it to the top.  The young man in Reception looked at me as if I had just landed from an obscure planet in a distant galaxy.  The young people sitting around the reception area all managed to avoid eye contact.  Some even whispered and pointed in my direction.  It took about ten minutes before I could speak as I was rather out of breath.
I think that I am the oldest person they have ever seen in this backpacker.
Just as I was about to ask for a room on the first floor, the young man in reception smiled sadistically and handed me a key card for a room on the 4th floor.
More steps.  Lots more steps.  Even steeper than the ones I'd already climbed.  ""Bastard," I muttered under my breath.
I felt like Thomas the Tank Engine as I dragged my suitcase up another 3 flights of stairs.  By the time I got to the top I thought I was having a heart attack.  My chest cramped and I struggled to breathe.  I had to sit on my suitcase for ages before I was able to stand.  But I had done it and it was an achievement to be proud of.  I had dragged my suitcase up 4 flights of the steepest stairs I had ever climbed!
I opened the door to the 8 bed dormitory.  Now I have stayed in Backpackers before, had even backpacked through South-East Asia with my kids.  But we always stayed in a family room, not in a dormitory with random people.  Looking around the room, I quickly decided that this was a once in a lifetime experience, something I could tick off a bucket list and never repeat again....ever.  There was no way I was going to climb up onto a top bunk and all the bottom bunks were taken.  Two girls looked like they were packing up, so I sat on my suitcase and read a book on my Kindle while I waited for them to go so I could claim a bottom bunk.  The girls took their time but eventually they left and I lugged my suitcase onto a bottom bunk and then left to explore the city.
After a fun day out, I arrived back, climbed the stairs and waited for my breathing to settle down and normalise before entering the dormitory.  Much to my shock, everybody was asleep.
In the middle of the night I had to use the bathroom, as old women do.  The toilet facility was the smallest, tightest space I had ever encountered in my life!  To sit on the toilet with the door closed, you had to swing your knees to the right.  To wash your hands in the doll-sized washbasin, you could not stand up but had to swivel your body around to the left with your knees still jammed in to the right.  A contortionist would have been proud of me!  Then I realised a horrible, terrible, frightening realisation.  I had not taken my key card with me to the toilet.  I was locked out in the middle of the night, barefoot in below zero temperatures.  After an initial moment of panic, I thought about options.  I could wake up the sleeping strangers to ask them to let me in.  Or, I could make my way downstairs in the dark, barefoot, to the Reception area and pray that there would be someone on duty in the middle of the night.  I was too much of a coward to choose the first option, so I padded downstairs.
Luckily, a young man was on duty.  He gave me a spare key card and I headed back upstairs, waiting the customary ten minutes for my breathing to slow down before opening the room and tiptoeing to my bed.  I spent the rest of the night clutching the key card in case I needed to use the bathroom again.
The next morning young muscular men covered in tattoos walked around in their boxers.  I decided to pretend I was sleeping until they got dressed and left the dorm.  The shower proved to be just as small as the toilet.  There was no place to put a towel or your clean clothes without them getting wet.  I was not going to pad around half-naked like the rest of the youngsters staying there.

Throughout my stay there, everybody ignored me and avoided eye contact.  I truly believe that they had never seen someone as old as me stay there before.  I was definitely out of place and was made to feel so.  This is not something I would repeat again in a hurry, no matter how cheap it was.
Leaving, required manoeuvring my suitcase down four flights of narrow stairs again.  Somehow I made it down without killing myself - quite a miracle!  Young men stepped aside to allow me to pass, never once offering to help.  Maybe they thought if they offered to help me I'd want to come again!

Cindy Vine is a teacher and author living in Cape Town, South Africa.  She is the author of C U @ 8, Not Telling, Defective and Hush Baby.  All Cindy's books are available on Amazon in both Kindle and Paperback format.  www.cindyvine.com

When you are your own worst enemy

Sitting in my car waiting for a friend, I noticed something I had never seen before.  A bird attacking its reflection in a car's side view mirror.  Now this must be something that actually happens quite often, as when I put into Google search 'Bird fighting its reflection', heaps of photos like the one in this blog came up.  Unfortunately as I no longer have a smart phone to take impromptu photos with (it accidentally fell out my pocket and smashed when my cardigan snagged on a chair, but that is a whole other sad story), I was forced to grab a photo off Google images.
But I digress.  So back to the bird fighting its reflection.  That got me thinking.  How often are we actually our own worst enemy?  How often do we blurt out stuff and think immediately, "Oh crap I shouldn't have just said that!"  Our lives are so busy we are forced to make on-the-spot decisions and choices and sometimes they aren't always the best option.  We are our own worst enemy when we react to situations based on our fears, irritation or annoyance levels or our lack of willpower.  Or when we have no idea what it feels like to walk in the other person's shoes.

Today was a prime example.  I love baked cheesecake.  So my friend and I went for coffee and cake.  There was a whole row of little restaurant/coffee shops opposite the beach.  We picked the one which advertised cakes on their blackboard at the entrance.  The waiter told us it was 'Banting" cheesecake.  All I know about Banting is that it is some kind of a diet invented by some kind of health nut sports medicine guy that works at a university.  (I think!  I am probably wrong.)  So we ordered the Banting cheesecake and I felt extremely health-conscious ordering what was probably diet cheesecake.  It arrived with a mound of cream next to it.  My stomach dropped (literally) as I don't do cream in any form.  My stomach has an instant aversion to cream.  As a child, anything rich, creamy or oily would make me throw up.  As an adult it gives me instant runs.  I tried to avoid the cream but I definitely ingested some as I could feel my tummy begin to gurgle.  Now this is not a happy baby kind of gurgle.  This is a gurgle that causes hair-raising moments.  The hair literally stands up on my arms.
All my life I have had a fear of performing certain body functions in public bathrooms or at other people's houses.  There are some things I can only do in the privacy of my own bathroom.  So I didn't go at my friend's house when I needed to, instead I sat and let my tummy gurgle quietly.  Then I made a very bad choice to stop off at the supermarket on the way home.  I was definitely my own worst enemy, as by that stage my tummy was ready to erupt.  The hairs on my arms were on high alert and standing at attention, but still I refused to go to the public bathroom.  Hopefully, nobody noticed my strange walk as I clenched my butt cheeks together and pushed the shopping trolley around that supermarket in double quick time.  By the time I got to my car I could barely walk.  My gait had changed to a strange one-legged gallop as I dragged my other foot along the ground, too scared to take a proper step as my butt cheeks stayed clenched together in a mild panic.  While the shopping trolley man unpacked my shopping into my car, I jumped up and down as I could not stand still.  With teeth clenched I made it into the driver's seat and all the way home.  Opening the gate and front door were the next death-defying missions that I managed to complete before mincing my way down my passage to my bathroom.  I really need to go when I need to go.  This fear of others' bathrooms must be overcome.  There was no need for me to go through this horrifying ordeal.  I am truly my own worst enemy.
Cindy Vine is an author and teacher currently living in the beautiful city of Cape Town, South Africa.  She is the author of Hush Baby, Not Telling, Defective, C U @ 8 and The Case of Billy B.  All her books are available on Amazon in both kindle and paperback format.

Things I've learnt over time

There are times when there is no logic to things people do

When I recently checked into the Lutheran Mission Guesthouse in Iringa, Tanzania, the guy at reception put me in a large room with the biggest bed I had ever seen.  I could lie sideways, upside down, it didn’t matter, as the bed was so huge it made no difference.  The next morning as I was heading out to my workshop, the same guy who checked me in the day before informed me that I must give him my luggage as I was moving to a new room.  “Why am I moving?”  I couldn’t hide my irritation.  “Because your room is booked by some other people,” he replied with a smile.  “So why did you put me in that room if you knew I couldn’t stay there?”  I thought that was a reasonable thing to ask.  He shrugged, “I don’t know.  No reason.”  What can you say to that?

Being back in Tanzania, albeit for just a few days, made me remember some of the strange laws that defied logic.  The traffic police dressed like sea captains in their white uniforms that would be covered in a layer of red dust by the end of the day.  The road blocks to check that buried somewhere in your car’s trunk would be a fire extinguisher so that you could put out the flames if your car suddenly randomly caught fire.

Going to Iringa Airport, I was surprised to see that they had upped their security.  Drivers of the vehicle have to step out of the car and be body-searched, while the people actually traveling and boarding the plane are left alone to sit and wait in the car for their driver to be allowed back in.  That defies logic.

At Dar-es-Salaam Airport I noted that my departure gate was Gate 7.  However, there were no signs anywhere for a Gate 7.  They only had Gates 1-6.  So I asked one of the staff there if they could tell me where Gate 7 was.  The response, “There is no Gate 7.  You must go to Gate 5.  We just say Gate 7 so you can go to Gate 5.”  Sometimes there are no words!

If you show compassion people will take advantage.

By the grand age I am now, life should have made me more cynical than I am.  But despite my cynicism, I know that people will continue to take me for a ride.  I am a Giver and people just cannot resist a Giver.  They spin you a story so that you will help them.  What annoys me the most is that they believe I am so gullible and stupid, and that’s why I help them.  The fact is, I see through their bullshit but there is something in me that compels me to help them.  Whether it’s the desperation in their eyes as they spin me a line or the fact that they have children, I don’t really know.  But I will do what I can to help them.  This is self-destructive behaviour.  I think I need therapy.  Because you give them a hand and they grab all of you in until you start drowning in their mess.  You give all you have until you have nothing left for your family.  And you know that nobody is going to help you.  You just have to work your way back up until the next person asks for help.

People are well-meaning but invariably let you down

Everybody has good intentions.  They make kind offers because at that time it makes them feel good.  However, because of time constraints or lack of resources, they let you down the majority of the time.  So when people offer to help, you need to have a back-up plan in case they don’t come through for you.  At the end of the day, the only person you should rely on is yourself.

24 Hours in a day is not enough

In fact 7 days a week is not enough.  A two day weekend is too short.  Time is the biggest enemy.  Time also has a special friend called Procrastination.  The amount of things that need to be done does not leave much time to follow your dreams.  Eat Work Sleep becomes my mantra.  Often it is just Work and Sleep.  However, recently I have decided to make time for reading and writing, my two loves.  Cooking is another favourite past time, but cooking costs money, so that is on the back-burner for a while.  Sometimes I think a 36 hour day would be better.  But then I have to ask, would I have the stamina to last that long?  As it is I start work at 5.30am and leave my office at 6pm feeling shattered and dreaming of an early night and sleep.  Then my brain can only do something mindless like watch the Crime Channel or Reality TV.  Serious thinking is beyond reach.  I really think we need to start protesting for a four day work week and a three day weekend.  That would definitely give our lives more balance.

Traveling gives your life an added dimension

For the life of me I cannot comprehend people who never leave their home town or city.  As a person who travels a lot, and by a lot – I mean more than most people, I have to say experiencing different cultures and seeing different places others just dream of, makes your life richer.  Seeing a place in a photograph is not the same as embracing it with all your senses.  Although endless traveling can be exhausting, the benefits make it all worth it.  One day when I am old and senile, I can look through all my photographs and remember the places I went, the food I ate, the things I saw and the amazing people I met.  I can honestly say, that I have lived my life to its fullest.  If you can travel, do it.  If you don’t have the money, find it and travel.  The world is out there waiting to be explored.

Being Happy and Healthy means more than being Rich

I have come to terms with the fact that I’ll never be rich.  Money is not my friend.  I get it in and I give it away.  While money can buy you lots of cool stuff, and means you can go on amazing holidays and also pay your debts, money can’t buy you happiness.  I know that sounds like a cliché but it’s true.  For the last two years I have let the lack of money cause me such stress that it’s affected my sleep and aged me considerably.  How stupid to give Money that kind of power!  So the last while I have decided to focus on being happy and healthy.  To start doing the things that I love.  And to not let well-meaning people try and dictate to me what I should and should not do.  This is my life, my decisions, my choices.  And the choice I am making is to be happy.

Your Family will always be your Family

Every family has their ups and downs.  You may not always agree with what each other does, and you may say things or do things which hurt each other.  But the bottom line is that they are your family.  They are a part of you and you are proud of their achievements and saddened by their disappointments.  No matter what, I will always be there for my family because I believe in family.  I look at my three children and I am overwhelmed with feelings of love.  If I didn’t do much right in this life, my three children are definitely something I got right.

It’s okay if you don’t like everybody

And it’s really okay if everybody doesn’t like you.  So much of my life was wasted trying to please people and make them like me.  I was the eternal people-pleaser.  (Read doormat)  I worried about what people thought about me, and tolerated people I disliked.  As I’ve grown older, I am more concerned about liking myself and not letting myself down than being concerned about what other people think.  There are some people who, when they walk into a room, make the hair on the back of my neck rise.  There very presence causes me irritation.  Therefore it is understandable that for some people, my presence and personality might annoy them immensely so that they can’t stand being around me.  And that is okay because we are all unique.  If we were all the same the world would be a very boring place.

I am finally comfortable with how I look

For years I wanted to be anorexic model-thin.  No amounts of dieting or exercise would ever make me look that way and I have accepted that.  In fact, I have embraced that I am overweight and have discovered that I can use it to my advantage.  Today I asked for a special seat as I am old and fat.  So they bumped me up to First Class and gave me three empty seats!  Bonus!  Of course, squeezing down narrow aisles will always be a problem.  And as much as I would love to climb to the top of Kilimanjaro it ain’t going to happen.  A helicopter flight to the top will do me just fine.

Strange things happen to me

Whether it is a young Maasai dentist offering me cows for my young daughter while having root canal treatment, or falling backwards into the bath of a hotel in Moscow in the middle of the night and getting wedged with my legs sticking into the air because I mistook it for the toilet in the dark, these sorts of things happen to me all the time.  Besides giving me a wealth of stories to tell, and making my life a rich tapestry of hilarious and sometimes dangerous adventures, it stops me from being bored.  I can never say my life has been boring.  From smuggling money out of a country in a sanitary pad, to making an emergency landing in rebel-held territory, I have experienced a lot and for that I am very thankful.  At the time you wonder, “Why me?”  But afterwards you feel special that you are always the one chosen to land up in disastrous and often extremely funny situations.

For example, my first night in Iringa I was way too tired to head into town to forage for food.  The Lutheran Mission where I was staying did not sell dinner.  So I dug in my backpack and found a bag of two minute noodles and a berry-flavoured teabag.  I asked the man at Reception if I could get some boiling water, a cup and a bowl.  He brought me a flask of boiling water, a cup and a side-plate.  I patiently explained that I needed a bowl as I had to pour the boiling water on the noodles.  He went back to the kitchen and returned with a dinner plate.  My patience was now starting to grow thin.  I showed him the noodles and modeled pouring the water onto it so he could see a dinner plate would not work.  He returned to the kitchen and came back with a very large stainless steel mixing bowl.  I smiled and thanked him.  However, I must have looked quite a sight eating my noodles out of a large mixing bowl with a teaspoon!

Yesterday flying on a little 8 seater Cessna as it bounced and bumped its way through dark clouds, I had an epiphany.  Life is a bit like the flight I took.  You have smooth bits where you can see the ground below and know exactly where you are heading.  Then you fly into a dark cloud and are blown around the skies, unable to see anything above or below.  To make matters worse, you discover that the seatbelt does not work, so if the plane does plummet to earth you will have no chance of survival.  But you trust, you trust that the pilot who appears to be sleeping in the cockpit, will fly the plane safely through the dark clouds until you come out the other side.  You can’t let those dark clouds overwhelm and panic you.  You can’t let the air pockets, sudden drops and being blown around the skies frighten you.  You have to focus on getting to the end of the cloud and letting the sun shine on you once again.  And trust that the pilot wakes up in time to land the plane!

Cindy Vine is an author and teacher living in Cape Town South Africa.  Besides writing, she runs an NGO which helps children who don’t cope with mainstream education.  Cindy is the author of Hush Baby, Defective, Not Telling, C U @ 8 and The Case of Billy B.  All her books are available on Amazon in both Kindle and Paperback format.

The Hidden Advantage of Having a Big Bum

For most of my life I thought that having a big bum was a curse.  Two large bags of fat to sit on.  Jeans that never quite fit.  A mission to walk sideways through a narrow space.  Although there was one boyfriend many years ago that said I had a sexy bum but if I remember he was quite drunk at the time.  So in all probability his vision was blurred and he thought he was seeing double, when actually he wasn’t.  Sad but true.

Don't get excited, that's not my bum but it could be after watching Jamie Oliver's Sugar Rush on the plane.  I'm thinking twice about my sugar intake now and the sodas I drink.  This Coke I am drinking might be the last.  This is just a random Google bum.  But this is what my bum feels like on airplane seats.

Bums have suddenly come into fashion thanks to the Kardashian sisters.  Big is now beautiful in the eyes of the masses.  Some people are even getting butt implants. ( If you contact me I reckon I can give four people butt implants from my bum.  You can get them for free, just pay for my surgery to remove my slabs of lard.)  I have to say bumless bums are quite unattractive.  You know the ones where people are completely flat in the buttocks area so that their jeans sag.  It looks almost as if they were jumping onto the Metro and the doors closed on their protruding butt slicing the excess off.  Hey, maybe I should try that?

Besides being a slave to fashion and having a big butt, what could possibly be the hidden advantage you are probably asking.  Well, it's not to rest your backpack on and spare pressure on the small of your back.  (Mind you, a big bum does help with that!)  Let me tell you a little story that will illustrate the hidden advantage of having a big bum.  This was something I had never previously considered.  

When I checked in online for my flight to Vienna, it did not give me the option to select my seats.  On my boarding pass it said "Seat - None.  At first I found this quite distressing, then I thought maybe it was because I had been randomly selected to sit with the pilot.  So when I went to the Online Check-in Counter to drop off my bag, the flight attendant said, "Sorry the flight is full so you have to have a middle seat."

Then he smiled his simperingly sweet fake smile as if he really cared that I would be spending 9 and a half hours doing my sardine-in-a-can impersonation.  "I'm afraid on both the flight to Dubai and the flight from Dubai to Vienna you'll have to have a middle seat."  It had just got worse.  Now the 6 hour flight to Vienna would also be cramped.

I flared out my butt cheeks like an ostrich fluffs out their feathers before they attack.  "I'm sorry but I have a really big bum.  Can't you find me an aisle seat?"

He glanced at my posterior regions and reached for the phone.  "Hello, we need a disability seat," he communicated with his supervisor, nodding at me as if we were in some kind of secret conspiracy.

"I can give you an aisle seat on both your flights.  Enjoy your trip!"  And he handed me back my passport with the two boarding passes.

For a minute I stood there staring at him, not sure whether to be insulted or impressed.  Although I have often cursed my over-sized bum in the past, I had never really considered it a disability.  Now I am wondering if I qualify for the disabled sticker for my car so that I can get the good parking!

Cindy Vine is an author and teacher who lives in the beautiful city of Cape Town.  She is the author of Hush Baby, C U @ 8, Defective, Not Telling and The Case of Billy B.  All her books are available on Amazon in both Kindle and Paperback format.