By Howard Feldman, Synthesis
For a short while, Johannesburg residents understood the term “Christmas in July.” That was when quite unpredictably it began to snow. Although the freezing weather and the cold front had come as no surprise, the sudden snowfall (in an area that had last seen the fluffy stuff in 2012), was largely a pleasant surprise.
So unusual was the occurrence that aside from 2007, the city had not had a real snowstorm since 1981. Much as they always do, residents took the whole thing in their stride. Because that’s how we roll.
Consider that on any given day, a decent majority of those who live in Johannesburg will be hard pressed to name their mayor. They know with certainty that it is hardly worth the effort of learning their names considering that the next vote of no confidence might replace one irrelevant representative with another.
Residents will have no idea if at the start of the day they will be impacted by loadshedding and if so, to what degree. They will not be confident that they will have water, and if their taps do run dry, they will have no cooking clue if they are being upgraded or downgraded. Maybe everything is falling apart … or maybe the system is being refurbished with something bright and new.
Consider that just a few weeks ago, we were woken up by an earthquake, the likes of which we had not seen – or felt – since who knows when.
“Alive with possibility,” might have been the slogan used in South Africa’s international marketing campaign, but when it comes to the country’s largest city, it can mean pretty much anything.
Because indeed anything can happen, and so often does.
Which is why an unpredicted snowfall on a random Monday morning in July was welcomed like an unexpected, yet undemanding guest. It asked little from us, was delightfully entertaining, distracted us from the chaos and the drudgery of our lives and reminded us to forget to be serious. It also didn’t overstay its welcome and left as quickly as it arrived, before we tired of it.
The Good Things Guy (GTG) reported how Iwisa Maize Meal claimed responsibility for this meteorological phenomenon, declaring themselves the masterminds behind the snowfall. According to GTG, the Iwisa marketing team couldn’t resist the opportunity for a little fun, stating that they had planned this “outdoor activation” to celebrate the wonders of their maize meal.
It’s mad enough to have been an option.
Other residents shared pictures, memes and reactions. For a short while, social media became a fun filled, positive place, much like it was when that earthquake made us think that we had drunk too much a few hours before.
What did I do?
Nothing. I came home from the radio studio, opened my computer intending to work. But I didn’t. Rather, I sat in front of my heater staring at my window where I watched the mesmerizing dance of the flakes as they leaped and played in delight. I stared at the hypnotic wonder of flurries and gusts and marveled as they disappeared before or after touching the African soil. I sat entranced by the beauty and caught a moment that is unlikely to be repeated for some time.
I am old enough to remember 1981. And young enough to still delight in Johannesburg’s snowfall.
Johannesburg’s residence live unpredictable lives. We might not know who tomorrow’s mayor will be. We might not know when we will have electricity or water. But we know that it is worth enjoying the moment. Even if it means that hell might be freezing over.