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In my job I often have customers asking me to do stupid things. Part of my job is to explain why these things would be ineffective or detrimental. Failure to do so, as I have discovered, leads to unhappy customers. Unhappy customers expect me to rectify any mistakes, even if I was simply doing as they asked. Clearly, I should have joined the printing industry.

Sakkie, old chap, I hope that you get some customers as a result of me posting your flyer here. Then I hope you get a new proofreader and printer.

“Anti-toxins” sound almost like they might be a real thing! If toxins are poisonous, are anti-toxins good for you? Do heavy metals really accumulate in my digestive tract in little nuggets of the sort that can be rubbed, scrubbed and scraped from my intestinal walls? How do tiny seashells distinguish natural hormones from artificial ones or, for that matter, bad bacteria from good bacteria? Is “100% Organic Mineral Supplement” even a possible thing?

I am no wiser after visiting the Web site. The makers of Colon Cleanz would have be believe that sinusitis and halitosis are caused by having a dirty colon.

The claims made in this pamphlet are so outrageously strange that I regard the entire thing with a sort of detached hilarity, marred only by the suspicion that someone, somewhere, is actually going to buy the product.

Now go and Google “Andrew Devinson”.

Nobody begrudges them this. In fact, I often place obsolete computer parts or old household items at the top of the bin, knowing that they will find them long before the garbage truck arrives. My hope is that they will be able to get some use, or a small amount of money, from my discarded items.

My problem with these trolley people is far more personal. I am brutally rude to them at every opportunity. This is not because I hate them. Quite the contrary! I think that the living they make is good for the economy, and environmentally friendly to boot. I am rude to them because even the slightest attempt at politeness inevitably results in then asking me for money, clothes, food or any old stuff that I don’t want.

Seriously, if I had stuff that I didn’t want, they would be able to find it in the dirt bin. Except for money, of course. Money is something that I am unlikely to ever not want.

It isn’t a short conversation either. It usually starts with an elaborate ritual of enquiring after my heath, followed by the insistent and repeated requests for my stuff. Its really tiresome and it is always the same. The only way to avoid it is to cut them off as they start speaking, with a clear and brutal declaration of disinterest.

For example, I have just been enjoying a cigarette at the open front door of my home. I watched a trolley person slowly making his way down my street, pushing his collection of found items before him. As he passed my front door, he smiled and waved. I gave him a cheery wave back. He continued on for two steps, backed up two steps, and started heading towards me to ask for stuff. What was a moment of civilised camaraderie was instantly ruined.

This phenomenon is not confined to homeless people. During the recent FIFA World Cup, I visited the fan park on Cape Town’s Grand Parade. The experience was fantastic! There were a large number of people of all cultures, colours and geographic origins, all enjoying a night of solidarity.

I had conversations with two people of African heritage people during the evening. One was a very polite gentleman who discussed soccer with me at great length. Just when I thought that I had made a friend, he asked me if he could have the beer that I was drinking. The other tried to sell me a fake Brazil hat and pick pocketed my girlfriend.

I mean no disrespect to black people at all. I say “black” because I consider myself to be an African too, although I wouldn’t pass for one walking down the street because I am “white”. However, I wonder why it must be that the overwhelming majority of interactions that I have with black strangers I meet on the street land up in me being asked for free stuff. I’m not exaggerating when I say that this happens in at least 95% of interactions.

Please, guys, I would like you to understand some things. I do not hate you, and I feel guilty about giving you the impression that I do. I am also not made of money. If I had to give something to everyone that asked, I would soon be destitute myself. The only fair way to deal with this is not to give anything to anyone.

If you must ask, pick one thing and ask for it up front. Your part of the conversation should be along the lines of, “Hello! Can I have some old socks?” That is far more likely to be successful than wasting my time asking me how I am, commenting on the way the colour of my shirt flatters me and telling me a long story about your cousin before you get to business. If I do say “no”, move along and don’t bother me anymore. I might feel more charitable the next time you see me, provided that you have not irritated me. You should realise that I will remember you because you do not, as the rumour goes, all look the same to white people.

Since you probably don’t have an Internet connection, I intend to print out a few copies of this advice that I will provide to you when you bother me. Take this advice to heart, and understand that I am giving it because I actually like you guys and would prefer us to be able to interact in a friendlier way.

Finally, when I say “hello”, I am being polite and welcoming you to my neighbourhood. I am trying to convey to you that I am not a threat to you, and am pleased that you are not a threat to me either. Please don’t ruin it by trying to take advantage of me. Doing so makes a joke of everything that we are trying to achieve in this country.

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kthxbai

I suggest playing these:

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Ronnie is a calmly-spoken yet determined man who has some impressive experience in motorcycle trekking through Africa. He finds himself in the fortunate position of having the time and resources to live a dream that many of us have, and now he is on his way.

His bike is a BMW R1200GS and in addition to his impressive array of sponsors, his efforts are being reported on the BMW Motorrad Web site itself. That is where we come in.

Dreams like Ronnie’s are not just of benefit to the dreamer. His desire is to share his experiences with everyone through his Web site. Already, he has accumulated a fascinating array of experiences and photographs from the Southern African leg of his journey, and this collection will grow several-fold over the course of his two-year journey.

If you would like to follow Ronnie’s exploits, and I suggest that you do, please drop by his site at http://www.motogypsybiker.com/. He will be updating his blog regularly as infrastructure and travel conditions allow. Judging by what he has already posted, Ronnie’s journey will be of great interest to anyone who loves travel, technology, motorcycles or wide open spaces.

Perhaps a few of you will land up following in his wheel tracks in the future.

I’m going to be helping out in a very small way by promoting his site and, if you are interested in what he is doing, you could also blog it, tweet it or mention it on Facebook. There is nothing wrong with shameless promotion when it might help a weary traveller buy gasoline in Bolivia or a beer in Bangladesh. There will be further news of his travels posted here from time to time.

Once again, you can follow Ronnie’s progress at these links:

http://www.motogypsybiker.com
http://ronnieborr.com

“Join the Ride, Live the Deam”