John Stupart.com

Watching the black clouds gather over Johannesburg for another God’s-wrath-esque storm of doom – a daily occurrance in summer here – I noticed the ‘smell’ of Johannesburg more vividly than usual. I expect the sharp wind that kicks up just before the storms has something to do with it. More importantly, I noticed how different the smell was to Onishibetsu, Durban, Bangkok and even Johannesburg in winter. It would seem that each place I’ve been to in the world has a unique scent to it, and often characterises the area itself.

For example, Johannesburg smells of dry veld, faint hints of smoke and some miscellaneous city smells, coupled with a whole plethora of other things I can’t really describe. Onishibetsu smells of grass, cows and occasionally of salty sea breeze ( not to be confused with Hama-Onishibetsu, which smells of fish in non-winter months.) In winter it’s crisp, bracing and definitely very sharp. In Johannesburg’s winter, the dryness seems to encompass every aspect of life, smell included (there’s virtually no rainfall during winter here.)

Put simply, Joburg smells of harsh, dry natural things intertwined with urban concrete. I wonder if crime has a smell, in which case it’s probably there as well! Likewise Bangkok stinks of an over-populated Asian city, with the added disadvantage of having China’s smog waft over. It’s exhaust fumes, pollution, fish, river water, dirty sewerage and so on. It’s rather interesting how these smells can so affect my impression on a place as well. Coming back to Onishibetsu after a weekend away would always relax me; something to do with the pastoral existance I would assume. Touring Bangkok was crazy, hectic and always frenetic, with barely a minute to relax. Johannesburg implies an honest kind of tone, in the sense that the ever-crushing pressure of city life is there, but the city allows one time to sit and reflect on this.

In each location the smells offers very different sensory experiences, which always seem to lead to various non-sensory formations of conclusions. I would not particularly like to go back to Bangkok, for example, though I am glad for seeing it, while I voluntarily eschewed another year in the overly-relaxing rural Hokkaido/Onishibetsu to live in Johannesburg. Each one represents the content of the location’s character. I suppose there’d be an argument for it representing the people as well, but I’m not nearly well-trained in sociology and moonbat philosophy to be able to make that case! Nevertheless, the smells of the world remain unique, unparalleled in complexity, and always fascinating.

As a child I used to always try and identify the smells of different people (no, not those smells), and try and understand how or why one person has a very distinct smell from another. Growing into adulthood however, one finds that these are often masked by excessively strong perfume or deodrant, thus hiding the uniqueness. For those who happen to smell like Bangkok, I suppose this is a good thing, but there are some people who I know and knew in my life who I wished I could sort of smell uninhibited, so as best to understand just what it all entails. This because I suspect that people, just like places in the world, are characterised by their smell. Some places or people I can barely recall in terms of acquaintance, but I can remember their smell, and thus recall their personality and what made them unique.

That being said, if Johannesburg started to smell like a rotten fish dumpster, I think I’d be far less inclined to remember it, much less live in it.

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Music for the month: Deftones – Natalie Portman (or as I like to call it: “The Crush Song”)