There is an unparalleled element connected to farms. One that is caressed by an ambience of open spaces that undulate with hills and mountains and rivers and trees that stretch in all directions and are graced with a kaleidoscope of greens, browns, and wherever possible, shades of yellow. An assortment of animal species patrol the territory and from time to time add music to the winds that, together with nature cause the open spaces to evolve. The display of these colours leaves an earthy perception of activity upon the land. Yet as darkness invades the night the sound of silence settles into this space.
Amongst the peaceful and picturesque heaving hills, workers till the land that give rise to products that produce economic strength and adds value to families and nations. Farm inhabitants are a humble people. Their lives revolve around waking early in the morning, attending and nurturing crops then returning home at sunset. Home could be classified as a small domicile which can seldom maintain, neither accommodate the numbers that require dwelling space. In the distance and beyond the hills, the “boss” relaxes with raised feet, sips on a beer and is attended by his meek wife; all in the comfort of his huge and comfortable home.
Farm life is different........very different. Though the hills and valleys evolve with time, the people do not. This mundane lifestyle has its robust moments. Come weekends, farming communities suddenly burst forth with fun and folly. Alcohol, like the “makavusi” flows freely and serves as a catalyst for conflict amongst those who normally, from Monday to Friday work the fields as a united force. The children conform to this lifestyle. They have the option of leaving for the concrete jungles of the city in search of the fulfillment and excitement of better living conditions, fast cars, finance and education, lest they too become farm workers and continue the legacy of their fathers and forefathers. The same children who are the “Flokkies” (Flowers) that flutter upon the hills and over the valleys and bring zest to farm life. The Flowers that bud and blossom from day to day, then decide to leave or to remain.
“Flowers” is one of these children who woke in the freshness of the morning and watched the evolution of production to product. Bread and tea for every meal. A young girl born and raised to carry on the traditions of being a farm worker. But “Flowers” desired something more, she needed something different. Her thoughts were wandering north, to the bright lights, the land of big dreams and fast cars; to the hangout of all the pretty boys and completely unaware of the many challenges her ambitions and desired migration wrought. The big city lights were nothing like the snail paced farm life she was accustomed to. On the roads prowled lions with quick minds and mouths that made bad situations appear favourable. A place where jobs demanded results and tricksters who dealt a fraudulent hand would hastily strip you of your dignity. A tough world easily able to consume any farm migrant.
“Flowers” was determined to succeed. She strode the city streets with caution, living life on the safe side as she faced her daily challenges. She focused upon and maintained her biblical teachings which became paramount to securing her steadiness in a big city. She may have left the fields, but her mind and mannerisms remained there. Her heart followed suit. She evaded city men like a rash for in some ways she was afraid of them. They moved too fast and though she was excited and flattered by their attraction to a farm girl, she desisted their advances. It therefore didnt take too long and “Flowers” committed to and married a man from her home town.
She bore two beautiful daughters and in addition to working everyday, had to learn how to balance being a working wife and mother. Her husband too had to learn the ways of the city and its many pitfalls and flawed capacity to empower neither positively impact a life. Their ideals were repeatedly challenged. The family flourished using the tools of their teachings to assist in moving through every day and as best they knew how.
But sadly, God had a different plan. Tragedy struck and very soon the farm girl was reduced to being both mother and father. A hurdle that life on the farm had not prepared her for. She played a tough charade but such spoofs has its consequences. The mental pressures took its toll. What she didn’t realise was that one's emotions are separate from our mental processes that have a much greater capacity to strengthen and assist in crossing valleys that seem to envelop us.
The more she endeavoured to maintain her delusive toughness the harder it got. There were good and bad scenarios that paraded before her. The bravado of farm life taught her that despite all, she should continue to believe in her teachings. “Flowers” turned her head towards the heavens and cried out to the Lord for help. An act most embrace when hitting the curb and not knowing which way to turn.
This courageous farmgirl with the dreams and aspirations of city success and progressive sophistication was no different. She prayed for a sign that would alleviate her immediate centre of barrenness.
She was now standing at a crossroad beholding a pool of signs with matching script which were all immersed in colourful streams and flowers. Yellows, greens, blues, oranges, purples signaling the hope and opportunities before her. All she had to do was choose her which way to go.
This was a new lesson because whatever the choice, the farm to city girl needed to realize that it was just that and she could always return to the “Flowers at the Crossroads”.
South Africa hosts a rich legacy of diverse people, cultures and languages. Afrikaans being one of many. In Flowers At The Crossroads, the afrikaans word “Flokkies” means “Flowers” and is pronounced as “Floorkiss”. The afrikaans language is most prevalent amongst farming communities in South Africa.
Copyright © 2011
Author: Patrick Terry Galloway
Author: Patrick Terry Galloway
