Hamba Kahle, Mama Africa Miriam Makeba

Mama Africa, Miriam Makeba, has died at 76. To our family she was an icon. We learnt the Click song as children, struggling with the challenges of the clicks, and trying to imitate as closely as possible the complex sounds.

There was a picture of an African lady that hung facing our front door was, in my young eyes, Miriam Makeba. It wasn't her, but when I heard the Click Song I would imagine that picture singing. She now hangs in my older sister Yvonne's house. And next to my front door in Sydney is another wonderful oil painting of an African woman. Sometimes if I listen carefully, I think I can hear her sing too.

The introduction to the song is as potent to me as the extraoardinary clicks throughout the song. From memory, this is what it says:
"In my native village in Johannesburg there is a song we always sing when a young girl gets married. It's called the Click Song by the English because they cannot say QONGQOTHWANE".

Our wedding video opens with Miram Makeba singing the Click Song. The picture pans to Marjorie Mbokoma, a special friend who was our nanny when I was a child. Marjorie was my surrogate mother at our wedding as my parents had both passed away. It is almost as if Marjorie is singing in that DVD.

About ten years ago I watched Miriam Makeba perform. She seemed tired, her voice was scratchy and I think she was not very well. I was horrified that people hurled abuse at her - and even some tin cans. I have had this memory for some time, and I wish I could apologise to her on behalf of those hooligans.

My abiding memory is her dulcit tones and the way those catchy rhythms got us dancing in our lounge. For me she will continue to represent the mama's of Africa. Hamba Kahle, Mama Africa.

Buenos Aires, Sydney & Cape Town: all three are winners of the 2008 Conde Naste Best City on their continent award

Well, well, well. It's no wonder that Buenos Aires, Sydney and Cape Town have each been voted Best City on their continent in the 2008 Conde Naste's Best City ratings.

Three of my favourite things about each:

BUENOS AIRES:

1. The tango - specially in the outskirts of the city in small, local salons

2. The tango - OK, OK, it really is the best thing about BA, but my second vote goes to Sunday afternoon tango on the streets of San Telmo

3. The architecture (so there's more to BA than tango) - it's not called Little Paris for nothing.

SYDNEY

1. The Harbour Walks - and there are many. 100's of kilometers of coastline, most of which is public walkway. Mangroves, bobbing boats, blue water (though not all for swimming), ferries, rowers, tinnies, canoes, birds.

2. The Hawkesbury - just one hour north of Ashfield by train. The last Riverboat Postman and the huge jelly-fish.

3. The incredible diversity of people living (mostly) peacefully - and the ability to walk about safely, especially as a woman.

CAPE TOWN:

[It's only right to stick to three reasons why I love Cape Town, but I could wax lyrical on this one for 300, given the chance... ok, I miss Cape Town...]

1. Table Mountain

2. My family roots and my oldest friends (I mean tenure!)

3. The animals: The whales in False Bay, the whales just over an hour away in Hermanus, the penguins at Boulders Beach in Simons Town, my ex-dog in Stanford, and the African wildlife so possible to reach at Addo Elephant Park or further north in the Kruger, Pilanesburg and other places that are not in Cape Town, but that I associate with the most beautiful city on Earth.

These are a few of my favourite things 34 degrees South. Perhaps you could let me know yours.

Mr Obama, you rock!

He's young.
He's Black.
He's a democrat.

And man! He's a dancer!!!

Congratulations, Mr President of the USA.

Now please bring the boys home so they can wash the dishes.

Barack Obama, the Kitchen Sink and Peace

This morning I was in Barack Obama's home. I was there with him and his whole family and Francis and I had eaten breakfast with them. It was a bit chaotic, what with the elections today n'all, but it was cornflakes all round and a lot of excited calling to one another.

In the kitchen Barack Obama was washing up in a huge sink of warm soapy water. He turned to me, announcing that it was really important to wash up, and to be seen to be washing up. No, he didn't want his wife to do it. Nor did he want Francis or me to do it. He was doing what he should do before going out to face the world on the day of the Presidential Election.

I quipped: "Mr Obama, you should bring the boys home from Iraq so that they can also wash up in their homes". He stopped what he was doing, dried his hands, fixed me with his twinkly eyes and said: "Hey, that's good. Really good. I think perhaps you should come and work for me".

Well, that's how I spent the last few minutes of sleep this morning. Dreaming I was influencing world peace and gender politics. It was just a dream, but I wonder whether today perhaps might hold the key to some great global shifts. I sure hope so.