Missing the mountains

ACHE! Being big has always had its advantages as well as disadvantages.
But when I changed continents I was rather excited that I was at long last going to find the sizes of anything and everything without any trouble whatsoever . . . right?
Wrong!
It is rather strange that there is an abundance of women of my size and even bigger.
But for some odd reason the clothes just kind of ‘sit’ in some weird way which makes shopping a nightmare.
First I thought it was because I was struggling with adjusting to the size interpretations and all but now I got that down to a T.
And please, do not think I am being racist or anything like that.
It is just that the clothes I have been trying on just do not snuggle around my ATM’s very well.
Every item is either too loose or too tight in some odd places!
Well, I stand to be corrected on this one and it may be because I shop on a student budget!
The frustration is not only based on the outer apparel department.
You can imagine my horror when I went for measurements and I was told I am an H!
An H? My God!
The ish thing is it is still a struggle to find sizes.
So, I guess the nickname “Double D” will be officially replaced by “H” (for Hot?)
Anyway, I have realised that so many things just seem to be the same but are not!
Mohlala — there is a certain drink, very sweet and popular. It comes in different flavours such as orange, grape and others.
Here the only flavour I recognised was orange, but it tastes like horse. Even the colour is off!
Why call it Fanta orange when it looks more like Fanta Butternut and tastes as awful as that concept? Oe!
Ok, I have just illustrated how you can take a girl out of the mountains but … (you may finish the phrase).
I will just have to say though, I have the beautiful pleasure of learning new things; entirely new concepts, but being the “green-headed” Mosotho I am, I still rather prefer those that remind me of home, sebebele!
For instance, I now have this ‘thing’ (which I really did not have before) for Nandos and it is not because of their extra hot chicken.
The sole reason I frequent the place more is that a good friend brought it to my attention that they import a certain South African beverage which we have nicknamed “jet fuel”.
I have to take an hour’s train ride about once a week or so, and believe me it is worth it!
The downside though is the train ride back; alone and tipsy, with a sheepish grin and kinda glazed eyes.
They do not do take-aways; if they did, my fridge would always have a six-pack — all the time!
Bona, do not be surprised when you see me after a year and I have ballooned out of proportion.
I eat papa just about every day; sometimes even for breakfast.
Truth be told, I really never had the palate for other types of starch but the main reason is in some twisted way it takes me back home!
I am not trying to make myself special or anything.
I guess the analytical ones would have deduced by now that my rants are just my way of saying I miss home!
I miss the people, (even the annoying ones), the food, and most of all, the vibe!
When I miss speaking my tongue, technology comes in handy, but you know, it cannot replace that human flavour!
Besides, there are quite a number of Basotho around, who are always reaching out to make me feel better.
But with my student budget, I cannot afford to visit any other day I want and anyway ke na le shy (yeah I am!) — I do not want to annoy people in their space.
They are beautiful creatures I must say, and I know they will be mad at me for even thinking like that, and they fly the flag and mokorotlo really high and proud around here!
To finish off, I will misquote a famous track: “I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien, I’m a Mosotho missing my mountains”.