A Day with Zebras, Eland and Bleesbok-We're Really in Africa!

Oct. 22, 2006

Saturday morning brought fair skies, so, with anticipation, we ventured to the Vryheid nature preserve to see if the locals were correctly reporting that the backside contained zebras, eland and bleesbok. The preserve is located on the hill above the town and is a 10 minute walk from taxi stand where we arrive from our mountain home once a week to buy groceries. We opened the gate to the preserve and discovered that there was not a soul or vehicle anywhere in the vicinity. Thus, we trekked up the path to the top of the hill through forest canopies, wildflowers, hanging bird’s nests created by weaver birds and occasional sights dating from Boer War battles. The view of the town from the summit was stunning as the hills are green and the buttes of Zululand contrasted with the farms, dams, mealie tanks, coal heaps and orderliness of the town. We then ventured down a track and came to the backside of the preserve where we sighted beasts grazing in the distance and not a human sign anywhere. As we hiked closer to the animals we realized that we were seeing black striped zebras grazing next to herds of eland. The more than 100 zebras had mouse like faces and were content to stare at us until we got within 100 feet and then they trotted off to the next viewing spot. I am partial to zebras and giraffes because of the beauty and eleganat design of their coats. The bleesbok ignored us as they were busy prancing, jumping and chasing about. The eland were sparser but statelier, content to graze in the distance. The track continued for around 4 miles until it returned to the summit of the hill. The experience of seeing exotic animals in freedom to roam and graze was thrilling to us Americans and probably just a hint of what this country has to offer, not to mention the pleasure of a spring day with the wildflowers in full bloom.
The week held many surprises including a trip to Mona, a Zulu craft fair in a village 40 km from Mountain High. The associate hospital director organized the outing to identify any Zulu crafts that would be appropriate activity projects for our patients. We arrived around 6pm to find that most of the vendors had closed up for the night and were huddled in their makeshift plastic tarp temporary homes. They come to this site every month from all over South Africa and camp for the two week fair. Thunder and lightning started as we ventured across the huge market site. Many of the muthi (traditional medicines) dealers were still selling their herbal preparations, a sad statement as to the extent of the AIDS pandemic in South Africa, which is seen as a bewitching of the patient by another. One vendor showed us straw mats; another had beautifully carved wooden bowls, a third brought out black clay pots with interesting designs embossed in the clay. I was looking for Zulu beading or wire baskets but the small items had been packed away for the night. Maybe we’ll try again next month. Mona was certainly not the Zulu cultural center that I had envisioned; think of a flea market with the goods spread out on the ground and the proprietors camping next to the wares. However, the thunder and lightning storm highlighting the rolling hills of Mona with the black tarp homes of the dealers silhouetted was a dramatic, memorable site.
Wednesday we were surprised by a knock at our door when a young village girl came up the steep path from the small local village to visit us. We carried on a conversation in Zulu/English and I learned that her mother had just died and was buried the previous Saturday. I could sense her grief and sense of loss. She was interested in the computer and so I showed her how to type a simple letter and look at photos. Although she was bright and courteous, she stated that it was impossible to find a job in the area and she has no money for further education so her prospects for employment are dim. Sat. morning she walked by our taxi carrying a saw to harvest firewood for cooking. However the sight that really caught my attention was a woman bundling 4 trees, 13 feet long, and placing them on her head to thwala(balance them) and transport them back to her home down the very steep path. She executed the task with great skill, grace and rhythm as she moved in dance like steps from side to side laden with her heavy load.
This weekend I bought cotton fabric for the women patients to make induku (head scarves) that they can hem, embroider and take with them when they are discharged. So I am filled with anxiety tonight about how the project will go over and whether it meets the Peace Corps standards of sustainability after we are gone. The patients have no activities to fill their time and are often depressed about their status, so barring a comedy team coming to tell jokes or a Zulu story teller, we will start a hand sewing project tomorrow for the head scarves. I am hoping it will be a sharing event with the women encouraged to talk about sewing and colors. My dream is that it will lead to a more complex projects-perhaps creating baby quilts for the newborns that are delivered by the midwives here at the hospital. (One little girl was born Wednesday night and was swaddled in an old brown flannel blanket.) I thought of the cute baby quilts at home and the women of St. Peters by the Sea’s project to make a new baby quilt for every baby at the general hospital-a great idea for Mountain High but is it sensitive and is it sustainable? We sure have a lot to learn and make mistakes every day. However, our friends and colleagues here are warm hearted and forgiving.