On Mandela’s death.
I was actually sad when he died, with the sadness that comes from a good person leaving us. On the other hand, I shared my views on people dying before – always sad, sadder if it’s the case of good people and the saddest when it concerns people we know. Mandela’s death wasn’t a shock, as technically he’d been dead for quite a while, in a “critical but stable condition”, hooked on a machine which was breathing for him. The vibe after he died reminded me of the atmosphere in Poland after the death of Pope John Paul II (Papieża Naszego Polaka Jana Pawła Drugiego, Polish Reader). Yet another nation in tears, both genuine and fake. As with the Pope after whose death the loudest laments were coming from people who lived everything but according to his values, the biggest outcry after Mandela’s death comes from South Africa which only superficially embraces what he preached.
There was a huge difference in which people approached these deaths, mostly due to technology development. Wailing Wall of Facebook was the first thing in the morning after his death. To be in fashion one should have prepared a status containing Mandela’s quote of their choice, a personal comment and a sad smiley. A selfie from one of the memorial ceremonies is still a must – I took one and so did president Obama.
I participated in one of the events in Cape Town as I thought it was something I should not miss. I am happy that I went for another difference between Polish mourning self-flogging is South African mourning celebration. The presenter even joked that if we were going to be too tired to go to work the next day, we could say as an excuse that Mandela only dies once. I really liked the bittersweet mixture of the event. There were sad songs, Waka waka and Annie Lennox who sang a bizarre anti HIV/AIDS/rape song and who also mistakenly said that nearly no child is born HIV negative in South Africa and who’s being mocked for saying so now. Sentence structure can be a bitch and she just made a mistake, people! From interesting stories surrounding Madiba’s dead there’s my personal favorite which I find as wrong as entertaining – of a sign language interpreter, from one of the ceremonies, who turned out to be an impostor. That’s what happens, dear children, when you’re stingy when choosing a language services provider. Anyway, I have a bit more to say on the subject but I’ll see to it after the funeral. Besides, I don’t want to spoil you too much with my stupendous writing after such a long break. Too much of a good thing. You can keep rereading this creation and my previous posts before I write again. Alternatively you can listen to this cheerful Mandela tribute song I like: