I know I shouldn't, but I do. I judge her for being thick - the Sheltered South African kid. I know it's not her fault that she has no idea about the atrocities committed by South Africans on South Africans. I blame her upbringing - and the fact that she went to a school called Voortrekker High.
It irritates me beyond words when she tells people that all South Africans are sheltered and unworldly, but I don't argue, because that would be like screaming at a four-year-old for being naive. Most of the South Africans I know can at least name a country and point to its rough location on the map.... unlike Americans, Brits and even Aussies. When it comes to all-round education, Saffers tend to be leaps and bounds ahead of the western world - along with Eastern Europeans and Asians. First world countries tend to think that knowing the bus route to work is general knowledge.
I judge her because she judges her father for marrying an Indian lady 10 years ago. She thinks that once you choose to marry, you stick by that decision. Regardless. And the man is always right. Unless he's your father and has chosen an interracial second marriage.
She tells me how much she misses South Africa, but she can't go home because her boyfriend doesn't want her to go on holiday without him and he doesn't want to go to South Africa because he's been there before - once, when she went home to visit her mother, two years ago. It gets better. He's still studying, so she's the one working in the relationship. Yet he controls the finances and puts a pittance into her account as pocket money. I want to tell her to tell him to shove his opinion where it's dark and warm, but it's not my place and I bite my tongue.
She tries to include me in her ignorant opinions. Like, "I haven't watched South African rugby in the last five years, but don't you think we're going to lose against England?" No, you lobotomised goldfish, I think Bryan Habana is a god and I'm actually hopeful that we're going to do quite well. The Brit in our office is a betting man... and you know what, he's betting on SA to win on Friday. Any further idiot opinions at this stage?
Why don't I verbally attack this gullible and misled lump of charcoal?
Because I really think it would be like elbow-dropping a toddler, screaming "you like that, punk? HUH? DO YA?" I can't do it. And she sees me as her one link to South Africa, except that I actually get to visit South Africa and see my family when I choose to. So even though I want to grab her by her shoulders and shake her until I can see the veins bursting in her dull eyeballs, I tolerate her comments. I take deep breaths and let her idiot ramblings wash over me. Because I pity her.
Gawd, I feel so much better after this rant. Now I can face another day of the SSAK.
In other news, I walked a Japanese granny to her flat in the old-age centre this evening. I like to think this cancels out all my bitching in this post. And now I must go clean the fishbowl.