The Police!

This is just a short post, because I had dealings with the police (again) in South Africa.

I often hear people complaining about them, but, touch wood, all my encounters have been positive. From the traffic cop who stopped me while I was driving Kurt, to check that I was okay (and whose brother had been to Hong Kong) to the ones who stopped us to check our road tax, and who were pleasant and good humoured.

This time, I needed some documents certified for a residents visa. In South Africa, this can be done, free of charge, at police stations. The lady was lovely. I don’t know how she kept her handwriting legible for all 17 pages, so we gave her some money for a drink, for her efforts, which was much appreciated.

I also needed to be fingerprinted for Hong Kong and South Africa police clearance. This happened the following day, and was done by a lovely guy, who reminded me of an old CID friend from the UK. They shared the same mad-cap humour and energy, but also an underlying seriousness, which no doubt showed itself as and when required. The fingerprinting wasn’t free, and he needed me to email proof of payment before he could proceed. However ‘it’s Friday and my email has gone on strike and doesn’t want to receive emails today’, so Kurt had to go and print out the proof elsewhere while the guy did my prints. It turned out that there was some firewall glitch, so he could only get internal mail, which he was totally unimpressed at. We bantered and laughed the whole time, and all the other fingerprintees who came in were treated to the same. Most didn’t know they needed ID and proof of address as well as proof of payment, and so left, empty handed, to get the required documents but were still laughing and in good humour as they went.

What struck me though, was that as he was taking my prints, he apologized and told me he couldn’t help but talk and joke – it was just him – but then he told me about a lady who had written a letter to him, where she thanked him for being like that as it had helped her get through a traumatic event which had involved the police. The letter was pinned to the wall and he asked me to read it once the prints were done. It was a lovely letter of appreciation, which clearly mattered to him. I also noticed a couple of children’s drawings on the wall, with ‘thank yous’ and when I asked, his colleague told me that the police go to visit the special school round the corner from our house to spend time with the students there, and these pictures were made by a couple of the students.

This episode reminded me generally of life in South Africa. When people are talking generalities, it always seems easy to find negatives, and yet when it comes to individuals, there are really good people and lovely stories.