You know someone who can speak in two languages simultaneously.
You know people who can make a noise that sounds like "oouu-er" which is impossible to write down, but when you hear it, you recognise it immediately.
You are able to knit, sew, farm, shoot and hunt, order around the staff and cook meat and fruit together without blushing.
You see nothing wrong in sometimes saying "ja" and sometimes saying "yis".
You think it's perfectly normal to pronounce "g" as "hrou".
You make cakes by putting them in the fridge.
You've met a man of the cloth who thinks that Verwoed made "a few mistakes."
You find it hard to balance the loving kindness you meet with your European liberalism.
I've been thinking a lot about South Africa recently, not surprisingly, I suppose. I have lost part of my connection to the country, and to a community that seems to be superficially European, but is actually very, very different. Separated by more than just a language, I've never felt more foreign than with my mother's people. Ons praat die taal, maar ons nie loop die nie loop.