A move to a new house forced the Abarders to go without internet for more than 72 hours. But felt like crossing the gateway to hell turned out to be quite heavenly, as Gasant Abarder explains in a new #SliceofGasant column.
Abarder, who recently launched his book, Hack with a Grenade, is among the country’s most influential media voices. Catch his weekly column here.
For the last 72 hours or so, during our house move, we have had no wifi in our new place as we wait for our internet service provider to reconnect us. Like Neo and the people of the fictional ‘real world’ city of Zion in the hit film The Matrix, we have had to deal with the butt ugliness of life without the interweb.
How did we do this before? I often wonder about the days before cellphones. And then it gets me wondering about the days before smartphones. Did we make dates to call each other on a landline at a specific time? How did we even get by without WhatsApp and social media? Without Google Maps, I would have had to hire a navigator like Prince Henry to make sure I didn’t spend the rest of my days finding my house after a quick trip to the shops.
We have come to rely on the Internet of Things for so long that we’re lost without it. It’s made our lives such a convenience. I haven’t been in a bank branch for years because I do all the banking online, I buy electricity online, I stream on demand and live TV, my security system and CCTV cameras are automated from my smartphone and I have endless hours of entertainment watching stupid people doing stupid things on TikTok.
But like the famous evolution of humankind’s depiction of hunched-over neanderthals to upright humans, I feel like the internet has caused us to devolve back to neanderthals. From being upright (if not law-abiding) creatures, we have become Quasimodos, hunched over our phones at the dinner table. We sit in public and make no conversation, except on the chat apps on our phones. We go out on date night and spend quality time with our devices and wearables rather than our loved ones.
The machines are running our lives. They were never intended to do that. They were meant to enhance our lives and make it easier.
So, apart from having to deal with pouty teens and pre-teens complaining they were bored because there wasn’t internet, it was great to go back to Zion and live in the real world – plugged out of The Matrix.
(Disclaimer: I did tether my laptop to my cellular data on my smartphone to watch Arsenal beat my beloved Man United. I shouldn’t have bothered!)
It was sheer bliss. Post-move weekend, I fashioned a paved pathway to my parent’s flatlet and even laid in some pebbles in between. I removed carpets to reveal a glorious parquet floor that will be restored. I took out a built-in cupboard to repurpose it elsewhere in the house. I took two relentless huskies for a moerse walk in the new neighbourhood. I visited the Milnerton Fleamarket and bought a bag full of things I didn’t need.
When I looked up, the kids were playing outside. No, really! My two younger daughters were finally playing with the Lego sets we had spent a small fortune on, and my eldest daughter was reading a book. But in fairness to her, she’s always reading books.
I had time to pop around to my new next-door neighbour who sent us the most heartwarming welcoming message. We spoke for what felt like hours about our cats and dogs and the gorgeous boat he fashioned himself out of marine ply and epoxy and is completely seaworthy.
The other neighbour, a history buff, popped by for coffee as a welcome to the neighbourhood gesture and we had an epic chat about the area, Cape Town, South Africa and politics. It was so lekker to have a real conversation and look someone in the eye instead of chatting to someone via a screen.
We have meat-free Mondays and Earth Hour (which technically in South Africa doesn’t count because every hour of every day is Earth Hour, thanks to Eishkom). So, it’s perhaps time for internet-free weekends.
Do yourself a favour and just disconnect and unplug from The Matrix. It’s so refreshing.
Also read:
Sold up and sold out: The Abarders are moving to the Southern Suburbs
Picture: Manu Mangalassery / Pexels