Prime Time 6, Coursebook mit Audio-CD und DVD

6 And now my mother has this stupid idea that she wants to go and look at our old house – or rather at the wall around the house, because that is all that you can see from the street. She has brought along my Granny Anna to give her “psychological support”. Support to look at a wall? “I have forgotten how dry the Highveld gets in winter,” my mother says as we drive past the Voortrekker Monument. “Or maybe it just looks paler because we have become used to a place that is always green.” Because it always rains. Because the sun never shines properly, not like it shines here in Africa. “ e grass on the other side is always greener,” mumbles Granny Anna. Not for me. I miss the pale grass on this side of the fence. I am sitting in the back of the car, staring at the high, pale blue sky, drinking in the air as if it were water. When last did I see such a wide cloudless sky? e closer we get to our old suburb, the slower Mom drives. And the faster she talks, almost without breathing, her „ngers clutching onto the steering wheel. “Just look at all those fences! e burglar bars and the security gates! e alarm systems and the vicious dogs behind the gates! I’m sure it wasn’t so bad three years ago.” “ ree years ago you just didn’t notice it because you were used to it,” Granny says. “Familiarity breeds contempt.” Dad always used to say that Granny Anna had swallowed a book of idioms when she was small. I sometimes wonder if she has any of her own words le¥ in her head. “ ree years ago I didn’t feel contempt, Mom. I thought it was normal to live like this. Now I live in a village where no one hides behind security gates. Where the dogs sound friendly when they bark.” “Maybe their bite is worse than their bark,” Granny says with a dry laugh. My mother doesn’t catch the joke. She doesn’t even listen to what Granny is saying. She is far too worked up. “I never want to live here again!” “What you sow you shall reap,” mumbles Granny. Mother glares at her, irritated. “I didn’t sow the crime in this country, Mom.” “ e sins of the fathers …” I had never noticed before how much they look alike from the back. Both have short, dark and smooth hair, small ears and thin necks. eir voices also sound quite similar. ey say that I also look like my mother. It’s hard to believe because she always wears dark red lipstick and black kohl around her eyes, which makes her look, well, quite exotic. I can’t remember what my voice sounds like. I was never much of a chatterbox anyhow. My mother was always the talker in the house and my father and I understood each other without having to say anything – Dad, me and Rebecca. When I was small I asked many questions, but when I was about seven I noticed that I could get more answers from books than from people. And so I started reading more and more and spoke less and less. “Do you know what it’s like to live in a country where you don’t have to be scared all the time?” “I refuse to live in fear, Anneke. e only thing to fear is fear itself.” As we turn into our old road my mother breathes in sharply. I remember the trees, many of 175 180 185 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 225 230 235 240 245 250 84 South Africa Nur zu Prüfzwecken – Eigentum des Verlags öbv