Translation provided at the end of post.
Die ontbloot van geskiedenis deur horlosieversameling.
Wat maak ‘n horlosie spesiaal? Vra twee mense en jy sal drie antwoorde kry. Beweging? Styl of voorkoms? Waarde? Die lys gaan aan. Ek glo dat ‘n horlosie word spesiaal deur die persoon wat hom dra.
Suid-Afrika in die 1950s was tien teen een ‘n bietjie van ‘n aaklige plek. Almal was arm en almal was nutteloos. Jy kan die kennis hê om goed te bou, maar sonder die nodige bronne, doen jy eintlik dieselfde as iemand wat geen kennis en geen bronne het. Waarheen het al die bronne gegaan? Oorlog. ‘n groot oorlog. Een waar een ou met ‘n lelike snor besluit het dat al die Shapiros en Edelmans en Goldbergs moet geslag word. Dit is ‘n growwe oorvereenvoudiging, maar my punt kom oor. Daar was ‘n Suid-Afrikaanse Nazi-party in die 1930s en, na en tydens die oorlog, het baie van hulle Nasionale Party toe gevlug.
Dieselfde man wat ons apartheid gegee het het ons ook ATKV gegee. Ek dink nie dat mooi woonwaparke en middelmatige Afrikaanse musiek maak op vir die jare van onderdrukking nie. D.F. Malan se leuse (as hy nog gelewe het) sal wees, “woonwaens, kampterreine, pret, maar nie as jy ‘n swart meisie het nie.” Wat ‘n jammerte, ek het begin om die smaak van sjokolade koek te hou…
Met daardie lang raaklyn uit die pad uit, nou kan ek my ou Oris bespreek. Dié horlosie kom van daardie tyd: die begin van apartheid en die eerste dekade na ‘n oorlog wat die wêreld geskok het. Dié horlosie is goedkoop. Soek jy staal? Nee, koper vir jou. As jy bedel kan ons ‘n bietjie chroom ingooi. Juwele? Sewe. Dit is meer as wat jy op een hand kan tel, so hou jou bek. Die horlosie was vir die werkende man ontwerp, mans wat die tyd nodig gehad het en nie veel meer nie.
Al is dié horlosie nie van goeie gehalte nie, het ek nogsteeds dit lief. Dit kom uit ‘n donker tyd in my land se geskiedenis, ‘n tyd wat vandag nog konflik veroorsaak, al is daardie konflik tussen mal politici en nie regte mense nie. In tagtig of so jare het die land verander. Diskriminasie en korrupsie en werkloosheid en elektrisiteitloosheid en liefdeloosheid en allesloosheid sal nooit weggaan nie, maar ons kan dit beperk.
Ek het ‘n hele paar horlosies van die ’70s, die dekade waar niemand Batman kon gelees het. Sanksies. Geen strokiesprentboeke nie, geen rugby nie, niks. Die gemiddelde Afrikaanse seun het dus niks gedoen nie vir tien jare. Dis hoekom ons soveel dom mense het. Wat doen ‘n seun in die 1970s sonder Superman en die Rugbywêreldbeker? Jy kan nie “masturbeer” antwoord nie, want dit word in elk geval gedoen.
Die Suid-Afrikaanse ekonomie was so sterk soos ‘n pensioenaris na ‘n bottel brandewyn, so die regering het besluit om ‘n bietjie meer regte vir nie-blankes te gee. Ek kan net die gesigte verbeel; “meneer du Plessis, ek het goeie nuus vir meneer. Ons span gaan weer in die Wêreldbeker rugby speel. Meneer se nuwe buurman, Xolisa van die Oos-Kaap het so gesê.” Ek grap net. Dit het nog ‘n paar jare gevat om almal toe te laat om saam te woon. Ten minste sou ek my sjokoladekoek kon gevreet het, want interrassige trou was in 1985 wettig gemaak.
Horlosies van die ’70s simboliseer hoop en sukkel, want niemand het ‘n goeie tyd gehad nie. Seuna kon nie sy Batman lees nie, mamma se bediende soek meer geld, pappa is bang dat sy nuwe buurman swart sal wees en sussie kan nog nie haar geheime swart kêrel trou nie.
So, dit was ‘n hiper-gekondenseerde geskiedenis van Suid-Afrika in die vorm van ‘n opstel oor horlosies. Ons land het alles gehad wat die hart sou begeer het: Oris, Camy, apartheid, woonwaparke, Lanco, meisies met mooi gevormde boude en rugby.
As ek die tyd kon terugdraai…
Ek sal in die teenwoordige bly.
Translation:
The uncovering of history through watch collecting.
What makes a watch special? Ask two people and you will get three answers. Movement? Style or appearance? Value? The list goes on. I believe that a watch is made special by the person who wears it.
South Africa in the 1950s was ten to one a bit of a grisly place. Everyone was poor and everyone was useless. You can have the knowledge to build things, but without the necessary resources, you are actually doing the same as someone who has no knowledge and no resources. Where did all the resources go? War. A great war. One where one guy with an ugly moustache decided that all the Shapiros and Edelmans and Goldbergs should be slaughtered. This is a gross oversimplification, but my point comes across. There was a South African Nazi party in the 1930s and, after and during the war, many of them fled to the National Party.
The same man who gave us apartheid also gave us ATKV. I don’t think that nice caravan parks and mediocre Afrikaans music makes up for the years of oppression. D.F. Malan’s motto (if he were still alive) would be, “caravan parks, campsites, fun, but not if you have a black girlfriend.” What a shame, I’ve come to love the taste of chocolate cake…
With that long tangent out of the way, now I can discuss my old Oris. This watch comes from that time: the beginning of apartheid and the first decade after a war that shocked the world. This watch is cheap. Do you want steel? No, brass for you. If you beg, we can throw in some chrome. Jewels? Seven. That’s more than you can count on one hand, so shut up. The watch was designed for the working man, men who needed the time and not much more.
Even though this watch is not of good quality, I still love it. It comes from a dark time in my country’s history, a time that still causes conflict today, even if that conflict is between crazy politicians and not real people. In eighty or so years the country has changed. Discrimination and corruption and unemployment and lack of electricity and lack of love and lack of everything will never go away, but we can limit it.
I have quite a few watches from the ’70s, the decade where no one could have read Batman. Sanctions. No comic books, no rugby, nothing. So the average Afrikaans boy did nothing for ten years. That’s why we have so many stupid people. What does a boy in the 1970s do without Superman and the Rugby World Cup? You can’t answer “masturbate” because it’s being done anyway.
The South African economy was as strong as a pensioner after a bottle of brandy, so the government decided to give a little more rights to non-whites. I can only imagine the faces; “Mr. du Plessis, I have good news for you. Our team is going to play rugby again in the World Cup. Your new neighbor, Xolisa from the Eastern Cape said so.” I’m just kidding. It took a few more years to allow everyone to live together. At least I could have eaten some chocolate cake, because interracial marriage was legalized in 1985.
Watches from the ’70s symbolize hope and struggle, because no one was having a good time. Sonny couldn’t read his Batman, mommy’s maid is looking for more money, daddy is afraid that his new neighbor will be black and sister can’t marry her secret black boyfriend yet.
So, this was a hyper-condensed history of South Africa in the form of an essay on watches. Our country had everything the heart could desire: Oris, Camy, apartheid, caravan parks, Lanco, girls with well-shaped buttocks and rugby.
If I could turn back time…
I would stay in the present.
The Escapement Room 