The Canadian Romeo: in the realms of G-Town

Throwing the ol’pig skin around.

A flurry of sticks on ice.
Practices unheard of in Frontier Country. Globally-bred Rhodent, Tommie Russell Gilbert, defies the definition of what a South African student is.

He sits cross-legged on the unmade bed, adjusting his socks and looking ahead, a soldier awaiting instruction. As a newborn to the country, he has spread his undeniable charm and intelligence across borders and hemispheres. His travels have taken him from Syria, Vietnam, Mongolia, Thailand and Lesotho. His starry-eyed character has retired in the valleys of Rhodes University, where he seeks new endeavours, new knowledge and new loves. The small-town syndrome seems not to affect the lanky Canadian, who has achieved immunity to the idea that there is nothing to do in the valleys of the Eastern Cape. Of course, any romantic warrior has his fears on arriving in a new territory. He is expected to achieve in his field of duty: mainly that of modernist poets, frog-legged languages, reading into the psyche of a comrade and searching into what has been and the crisis to come. He fears the reputation of the purple-stained town. The countless beers and drunken fools. On the standing of his new-found home, he shakes his head furiously and pulls his face, “I don’t buy into it, I don’t feel that I have to go out every night and get drunk to have fun, and if people don’t like that then I honestly don’t have time for those people.” Tommie does see the reputation play out in the streets though. As a free and mature man of 19, he feels that the university place is one that widens the responsibility of its recruitments, “Some people go out and get sloshed,” stating the norm. It seems his head is firmly screwed in place.
Every strong character has a kryptonite. For Tommie it was Nicole. Having a romantic bad spell before arriving in Rhodes, Tommie did not see Cupid’s arrow heading his way, “My friend, Tristan, told me not to worry, that when I least expected it and when I stopped looking I’d find someone amazing.” A week later, Tommie met Nicole. Seven months later, he is still able to call her his. This Canadian Romeo lightens up when Nicole is uttered. He scratches his dark bum-fluff on his chin and the corners of his mouth twitch in happiness. He does not look straight ahead anymore. He looks in the distance, as if imagining her in front of him. His torso visibly weakens. His cheeks visibly change a rosy-pink. A moment longer and his rectangular glasses would have fogged-up. The in-it-for-the-long-run romantic tells how Nicole is his missing link. A piece of him he did not know he was missing. His perfect girl would be someone “who is willing to let me be me…” something he has found in Nicole.



Tommie dreams of walking into a book store and seeing his masterpiece on the stand. Perhaps we will use a certain someone as inspiration. He dreams of raising a family. He wants to unselfishly teach and give back. Tommie does not strive for the perfect first.”There is no point to it,” he says, “if you got a distinction in matric and expect to get here, think again.” Tommie, wildly carrying his arms in front of him, makes a point as to what he lives by. He looks at his target. “Work hard but play harder.”

The Romeo, content on living to the full until he dies, switches on his charm at every moment. Whatever he utters, is believed. Whatever opinion, is heard. Whatever he dreams, is likely to be written in the stars.
O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
He might be sitting next to you in English. You might be reading his best-seller in a few years. He might be Mr. Gilbert.


See Tommie for yourself: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=607790601&ref=ts