The Lama and the Red Tape

The Dalai Lama will not be joining us for Desmond Tutu’s birthday party. 

Given the confusion between Llamas and Lamas, I wonder if immigration got confused?

It’s not as if South Africa hasn’t invited personas non grata here before, so I can’t see what the issue is. If we can entertain Fidel Castro, surely the Dalai Lama doesn’t represent a threat? 

During the Castro fiasco Nelson Mandela said that we would never allow others to dictate who our friends should be. It’s actually in our very forward-thinking and much lauded constitution – freedom of association – oh, and religion.

Still, the Chinese have given us pots and pots of lovely money, so we can’t risk all that can we? 

On the other hand there is karma to consider and I hasten to suggest that the pots and pots of lovely money might be outweighed by the kick in the ass karma will give us for refusing the Dalai Lama a visa.

It’s bloody embarrassing, that what it is. It’s like refusing Ghandi entry into a club because he wasn’t following the dress code. He is the Dalai Lama. He will reincarnate and never forget. I wouldn’t risk that, would you?

Aside from it all, he wasn’t coming here on a political mission to stir up sympathy for the Tibetan cause. He was coming here for a birthday party, for a priest! He’s hardly Gaddafi looking for asylum, which we’d probably grant along with a house in Clifton and a bullet proof Hummer. He isn’t a jihadist arriving with dynamite strapped to his private parts. He is a well respected holy man and international figure of peace. 

Immigration authorities say that this honoured personage decided to cancel his application while it was under review. For over 6 months? I must say with the birthday four days away, I’d also give it up as a lost cause.

 

I can’t say that I’m surprised it took so long for them to look at his application though. I’ve been waiting for a new identity book for over 18 months. We’re not exactly the most efficient bureaucracy in the world. We love red tape more than we love the rugby. God bless us. 


Have to add this cartoon in from a brilliant SA cartoonist - Jerm. 

Of llamas and lamas

Llama

Lama


The ambiguity of the English language is what lends it its wealth. It’s why irony and sarcasm have such power. It’s the foundation of wit and wisdom. It’s why I laughed until tears ran in rivers down my face, streaking my carefully applied mascara until I resembled a demented panda.

Driving along the road something clunked onto the top of the car.
Man startled: “What was that?”
Small boy aged 9: “Maybe it was an alpaca?”
Me disbelievingly: “An alpaca?”
Small boy aged 6 curiously: “What’s an alpaca?”
Man knowledgeably: “It’s like a llama only it’s from South America.”
Small boy aged 9: “Where are llama’s from?”
Man with certainty: “Tibet”
Me: “Um, actually I think they’re both from South America.”
Man beginning to have doubts, “But they do have llamas in Tibet?”
Me: “Yes, they do, only they’re Tibetan lamas not llamas.”
Man: “I knew that.”
Of course baby. Of course.

All in all I have enjoyed some strange conversations with my family over the last few days. Each day I struggle to eke out from my offspring what they achieved at school. Yesterday Small boy aged 6 amused me with this story.

Small boy aged 6: “Today Daniel and I played together.”
Me: “Really, what did you play?”
Small boy aged 6: “Well, I had gloves with spiders on them, so I could shoot spider venom and he had gloves with lightning bolts so he could shoot red lasers.”
Me: “Uh huh, and then what?”
Small boy aged 6: “Well we were on a spaceship and we crashed onto this planet filled with alien women.”
Me getting interested, “And how did you deal with that?”
Small boy aged 6: “It was terrifying! They surrounded us and held us prisoner. So we had to escape and they ran after us. Then we shot them in the butt with laser beams and spider venom until we made it back to the ship and escaped.”

Wow. He’s six and already fantasizing about being held captive by hundreds of nubile young ladies. God help me when he’s thirteen.

This is his portrait of Nelson Mandela.

It seems he is one of the minority in his class who know that Mandela is no longer our State President. None of them to know whom Jacob Zuma or Thabo Mbeki are. Funny, I also find them infinitely forgettable. I only hope our economy will too.

Footnote: There has been a bizarre amount of traffic on this post. Is there a sudden interest in Llamas or Lamas? Very strange. Comments welcomed in order to satisfy my curiosity. I've posted some more tidbits about llamas, not Tibetan monks with some more pictures from around and about.