Mike Mate

Train ride: Amsterdam to Rotterdam – the Greek Consulate.  The Schengen visa lets me into Greece; but another is needed to join the boat.  I journey through fields of black and white cows, red and yellow tulips, and windmills.  The sun picks out colour and feeds it through my polarized sun glasses – what a beautiful world.

Briefing: Amsterdam, Greenpeace International Head Office.  A room (swept for bugs) maps laid out on the table – an outline of the forthcoming three months.  There is a job to do.

Farewell Amsterdam – I am moving again

Wedged between window (overlooking wing) and weight lifter.  The flight from Johannesburg to Amsterdam: eleven hours of static motion.  Weight lifter is a Springbok, not the light frolicking kind – he’s six foot four and bulging muscles.  Correction – he is a power lifter.  Twenty two, capable of a 360 kg dead lift, traveling to Marseilles – an international competition – he’s sharing my space.

 (I support the Springboks)

 A South African passport attracts visas.  Mine fills up with them before it can expire.  Its pages depict a kaleidoscope of coloured ink symbols and I am proud of them.  But do I really need them.  Being a South African has given me more stress (less hair) than the exotic pages are worth. 

I have cleared immigration and am sitting in limbo in the departure hall.  There is broadband in the air and I can reach the www.  What if we deleted political borders from the map of the world?

(I would still support the Springboks)

I am fit for sea.  Healthy and HIV free.  I asked the doctor to include that test in my medical check.  South Africa has the highest account of AIDS related deaths in the world (although our president and health minister may disagree).  One thousand people are dying every day in my country from AIDS related illnesses.  One in four is infected.

 Dad was with me when I went for the blood tests.  I held the form such that my hand covered the tick in the block beside HIV.  I did not want him to see what I had included.  That was on Thursday last week.  Over the weekend I had the opportunity to contemplate what would change in my life if… 

 Monday.  My life is changed – simply from the very real contemplation.

 Good bye South Africa.  Until Christmas time.

 xxx

I have packed away my belongings and filled out the identification tag attached to my suitcase. Kirsten and I have separated and ‘the house with no windows’ is my home.

My new address is:

Captain Michael J I Fincken, Elf Kantoor Straat, PO Box 88, McGregor, Western Cape, 6708 , South Africa

But I will not be home until 2008. I will be on the Rainbow Warrior until Christmas.

Michael’s home-sweet-home in McGregor, Western Cape, South Africa