One week later- one long, manic week later. As I sit down trying to think about what my next column is going to be about, I find it hard to tune out all the noise in my head.
This past week has been a mixture of headaches and inspiration. From getting up at 04:00 to hand out our first edition on the corner of Klipfontein Road and Vanguard Drive, to working late over a cup of coffee and taking social photos at various events, this has surely been a week I will not easily forget.
I've met so many interesting people from all walks of life and so I have to thank you for letting me tell at least some of your stories.
Some of them you'll see in this week's edition and others are more of an experience than a news article.
If there's one experience this week that stands out in my memory, it'll have to be the day I went to interview the stakeholders in the article on page 2 about the fish hawkers who will be getting upgraded facilities.
As I tried to find parking along Klipfontein Road - which is quite challenging on a Thursday morning amid all the hub - about three men came rushing to my car all at once.
My knee-jerk reaction would be to panic, but these men were quite friendly, each wanting to sell me some fish. "No thank you. I'm here to do a story," a response I wished I'd recorded to replay as a standard response.
So eventually they gave up on trying to sell me some of their delicious wares but their eagerness to sell me fish made me think about a similar experience I had recently.
Often when I sit in my car at a red traffic light, people walk past me with pamphlets and wares, and I'm quick to say, "No thank you".
But the other day I was one of those people with my wares - the new People's Post.
Many people didn't even look at me or bother to see what it was I was "selling", albeit a free publication. Some rolled up their windows and others nudged forward with their vehicles.
At times it made me feel rejected, but then a wonderful auntie or oom would come along, smile at me and ask, "Kind wat maak jy op die straat so vroeg in die more?" (Child, what are you doing on the road so early in the morning?).
Sometimes I wonder what it must feel like to be one of "those guys selling on the corner". Do I play with their emotions and make them feel rejected, or have they immunised themselves against taking offence?
So if there's someone reading this article who sells things on any given corner, please give me a call and tell me about your day-to-day experience. What keeps you coming back to the same corner every day? Is it the need to make a living or do you actually enjoy the experience?
In closing, I'd like to appeal to everyone reading this article to please e-mail or fax me your opinions about the paper, the weather or whatever is on your mind.
Tell me what bothers you about your community and what makes you proud to be a part of it. Who knows, your letter may be published (with your permission, of course). Call me on 021-713-9446, fax me on 0866 361 468 or e-mail me at .