Sorry for the long delay in blogging but the Bond’s took advantage of the long Easter weekend to explore the Klein Karoo, South Africa’s version of Route 66, and the garden route of the Cape.
Just before we left for the Cape, Mountain High Hospital coordinated an AIDS education day for the adjoining high school. Planning this event was an act of faith on everyone’s part as the high school is run by the government school district and the hospital is directed by a private religious NGO. However, since our arrival we have heard that there was a need for the high school students to be presented with accurate information about HIV, testing, prevention, STD’s and health education in general. Unfortunately, the high school students go home in Nov. for their summer break and miss the AIDS Awareness event held each Dec. Our job as Peace Corps volunteers was to act as the go-between between the school officials and the nursing staff to make the event happen. Would the nurses be available to give the pitch and answer questions from the students? Would the school officials and teachers support the event and create time for the messages? Would the students be interested in the information and come forward with their issues and questions? The Answer is Yes Yes Yes to all concerns. In spite of the rain and some logistic issues (the girl’s dining room was also hosting a teachers training conference) the nurses showed up and had a powerful punch. They told the students that there generation could be doomed by 2020 if the students did not take steps to stay AIDS free for life. The nurses gave out factual information about prevention, testing and positive living, if one tests positive and the availability of ARVs. The students were given cards for anonymous health questions and to our surprise, most of the 120 learners submitted questions, which took most of the afternoon to answer. Surprisingly, none were prank questions. The students are intimately affected by the AIDS epidemic as many have had a close relative die. The reality is as close as the tombstone dealer in the shopping malls in town and the billboards proclaiming that “Prevention is Better than (NO) Cure.”
With this great experience in mind, we headed off for the Cape to celebrate Easter, along with most of South Africans who travel to Durban or the Cape for the holiday. Our first destination was Knysna (pronounced Nice na), a beautiful spot on the Indian Ocean that reminded me of Tiburon in the SF Bay Area. It even has a suburb of Belvedere, with a beautiful old stone church, gardens and graveyard. Knysna has a lagoon and headlands available for hiking and viewing the wild surf below. Further down the road we ran into Tsitikamma National Park with even more rugged coast, indigenous forests and surf, looking like Big Sur. The area is loaded with hiking trails to the view points above and first world comforts like movie theatres, interesting shopping, and restaurants. After a few days of “Marin County” South African Style we were ready for more adventure so we headed out to the Klein Karoo, the high desert of South Africa. The mountain pass from coast to the high desert did not disappoint as it round the craggy cliffs with view of the sea and the deep valleys and gorges of the mountains surrounding the coast. One has to give the voortrekkers credit for finding these passes and pushing their own personal limits to reach the new lands beyond the coast. Capetown is surrounded by craggy cliffs in all directions which appear insurmountable. Wagons had to be dismantled and contents hand carried over the steep cliffs to reach the grazing lands on the other side. When the highways were finally built over the mountains, the British engineers built the passes for elegance and great viewing so they are a true pleasure to drive.
After climbing the steep pass up from George through the four pass area and gawking at the fantastic views we arrived in the Klein Karoo, the small high desert area east of Cape Town. This area is famous for ostrich farms, dry desert air and plenty of open space. Oudtshoorn, the biggest town, was having an Arts festival which sounded great to Peace Corps folks from the deep bush but alas, most of the events were in Afrikaans, a language we have not been able to learn. This festival goes on for 10 days with a huge attendance for the drama, popular music, dance and fine arts. After enjoying some Afrikaans light rock we headed out on Route 62, feeling like our grandparents when they went west on Route 66. Sorry, no teepee motels but plenty of quaint small towns and desert landscape with gorgeous red rock formations, scrub, and magnificent mountains on all sides. Truly a wonderful drive and another insight into the amazing sights of South Africa.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Poverty and Pension Day
The reality that this is the final stretch of our Peace Corps service hit home this week as we hurried up to complete projects and leave mechanisms in place for sustainability of the occupational therapy program, staff computer training, and new business processes. The money from the Peace Corps grant to purchase beads, sewing materials, and shoemaking supplies for AIDS patient’s handwork is almost depleted. Monday was Pension Day at the small tuck shop in the forest so I hauled my fleece hats, scarves, two chairs and the volunteer coordinator to the site. (A prior attempt to sell hats to the retirees and disabled was a dismal failure with a huge rainstorm, obnoxious drunks and shoplifters gleefully absconding with the hats.) This time the weather was not ideal for selling soft fleece as it was very sunny and warm, but 11 customers came forward to buy the children’s models. (No thefts due to the vigilance of the volunteer helper).
Pension Day is an amazing spectacle in a rural area where one usually sees only small groups of people in their kraals or walking down the road. The grannies and welfare beneficiaries gather once a month under a tree or community center to receive their small pensions in cash. The money is delivered in two armored trucks followed by the clerks that make the distributions. The money train has a specific route to follow for the day, but the exact time of distribution is unknown. Thus the crowd gathers early in the day and waits for the magical money entourage to arrive. The beneficiaries attract a hoard of hawkers with live chickens, cold drinks, mangoes, plums, sheaves of snuff, muti (traditional medicine), brooms, linens, cheap watches, and fleece hats. We set up our chairs in the shade in front of the tuck shop but were asked to move to the side of the shop by the owner. I spotted an open spot by the water tank which was a great location on the sunny day as the crowd opened the spigot for a drink of water and were accosted by a middle aged lady selling hats for AIDS patients, children’s sizes only 5 rand (75 cents). My major competition was the man across the road with a crate full of live white chickens which were the hit of pension day. He lifted the wiggling chickens from the crate into a small chicken coop. The customer selects his/her favorite from the coop and is handed the squawking beast to take home. The method is to take a piece or rope or plastic bag and tie the feet together, but alas many of the women are seen diving into the bushes to chase a chicken who has escaped from the stew pot. The mothers mill among the vendors with their babies rigged to their backs with a bath towel. Seldom does one hear a baby cry in South Africa; however keeping the baby in place is a constant struggle with mother juggling their load and tightening the towel in front. Mothers getting in the back of a crowded taxi have an especially difficult challenge to keep the baby from being dropped or crushed but they manage the difficult dance with grace and rhythm.
When the pension vehicle train arrives the gogos, mothers and disabled form a queue and the money is quickly distributed. The train hurriedly takes off for the next remote rural location. The women are reluctant to go home as they catch up on the gossip and see old friends. They sit on the ground in circles and pass around a quart of Castle beer or coca cola and are entertained by the roving hawkers. Grandsons arrive to hit up the gogos for cash and a treat. Direct deposit of social security checks certainly can’t compare with this community event.
The reality of poverty is evident even on pension day. The mothers cannot afford the 5 rand for a hat for their new baby but look longingly at the colorful soft hats with bears, antelopes and Zulu patterns. Our NGO headquarters made a small order for their uniform shop in Joburg; perhaps sales will be better in the city, especially when the weather turns cold. The sad reality is that it takes about R2000 ($250) a month to sustain the patient handcrafts program, R1600 for materials and R400 for the volunteer coordinator. Over 400 patients have participated in the program and have learned many new skills as well as having some activity each day. I worry that as soon as we leave in June the program will end- the worst fear of Peace Corps volunteers. However, it has been a great experience and many patients have benefitted. (not to mention a US matron who is now an accomplished Zulu beader). Prior to our arrival, patients were bored during their long 3 month stays in the hospital. Their families are distant. On Friday I sat next to a woman on the taxi who was traveling to see her bedridden sister at the Hospital. It took all morning and 4 taxi rides to get to the hospital. After a one hour visit she reversed the journey as there is nowhere for families to stay at Mountain High.
Rural poverty is evident even among the best and brightest in rural Zululand. Our Zulu teacher is now in 12th grade but cannot afford to board at the high school due to his grandmother having a stroke just before school started in Jan. He is the class president and charismatic student leader. But at 17 years, he stays in a hut near the high school, hauls his water for drinking, cooking and washing. He must obtain all of his food from town and cook it on a small gas flame. He has no electricity so does his homework by candlelight. On Sunday he comes to our flat to borrow an iron to beautifully press the yellow dress shirts required for high school in South Africa. He is paid a small amount to teach Zulu to the Americans (R40 per week) but that does not cover taxi fare to town to buy food or visit his family. He never complains and is upbeat about going to university next year. He is a stellar student and will not give up until every assignment is done well and he understands the concepts. Friday night he came to our flat as he had no food and wanted 2 cups of mealy meal to make his supper. He was surprised and disappointed to learn that the Americans had no mealy meal (corn meal, the basic staple of SA) in their cupboard-only Jungle oats, which were offered along with sausage, spinach and a peach. What sacrifice for a young man to endure in order to obtain the excellent education at the high school. Stories of struggling students in American cannot compare with the grinding poverty we have seen.
Pension Day is an amazing spectacle in a rural area where one usually sees only small groups of people in their kraals or walking down the road. The grannies and welfare beneficiaries gather once a month under a tree or community center to receive their small pensions in cash. The money is delivered in two armored trucks followed by the clerks that make the distributions. The money train has a specific route to follow for the day, but the exact time of distribution is unknown. Thus the crowd gathers early in the day and waits for the magical money entourage to arrive. The beneficiaries attract a hoard of hawkers with live chickens, cold drinks, mangoes, plums, sheaves of snuff, muti (traditional medicine), brooms, linens, cheap watches, and fleece hats. We set up our chairs in the shade in front of the tuck shop but were asked to move to the side of the shop by the owner. I spotted an open spot by the water tank which was a great location on the sunny day as the crowd opened the spigot for a drink of water and were accosted by a middle aged lady selling hats for AIDS patients, children’s sizes only 5 rand (75 cents). My major competition was the man across the road with a crate full of live white chickens which were the hit of pension day. He lifted the wiggling chickens from the crate into a small chicken coop. The customer selects his/her favorite from the coop and is handed the squawking beast to take home. The method is to take a piece or rope or plastic bag and tie the feet together, but alas many of the women are seen diving into the bushes to chase a chicken who has escaped from the stew pot. The mothers mill among the vendors with their babies rigged to their backs with a bath towel. Seldom does one hear a baby cry in South Africa; however keeping the baby in place is a constant struggle with mother juggling their load and tightening the towel in front. Mothers getting in the back of a crowded taxi have an especially difficult challenge to keep the baby from being dropped or crushed but they manage the difficult dance with grace and rhythm.
When the pension vehicle train arrives the gogos, mothers and disabled form a queue and the money is quickly distributed. The train hurriedly takes off for the next remote rural location. The women are reluctant to go home as they catch up on the gossip and see old friends. They sit on the ground in circles and pass around a quart of Castle beer or coca cola and are entertained by the roving hawkers. Grandsons arrive to hit up the gogos for cash and a treat. Direct deposit of social security checks certainly can’t compare with this community event.
The reality of poverty is evident even on pension day. The mothers cannot afford the 5 rand for a hat for their new baby but look longingly at the colorful soft hats with bears, antelopes and Zulu patterns. Our NGO headquarters made a small order for their uniform shop in Joburg; perhaps sales will be better in the city, especially when the weather turns cold. The sad reality is that it takes about R2000 ($250) a month to sustain the patient handcrafts program, R1600 for materials and R400 for the volunteer coordinator. Over 400 patients have participated in the program and have learned many new skills as well as having some activity each day. I worry that as soon as we leave in June the program will end- the worst fear of Peace Corps volunteers. However, it has been a great experience and many patients have benefitted. (not to mention a US matron who is now an accomplished Zulu beader). Prior to our arrival, patients were bored during their long 3 month stays in the hospital. Their families are distant. On Friday I sat next to a woman on the taxi who was traveling to see her bedridden sister at the Hospital. It took all morning and 4 taxi rides to get to the hospital. After a one hour visit she reversed the journey as there is nowhere for families to stay at Mountain High.
Rural poverty is evident even among the best and brightest in rural Zululand. Our Zulu teacher is now in 12th grade but cannot afford to board at the high school due to his grandmother having a stroke just before school started in Jan. He is the class president and charismatic student leader. But at 17 years, he stays in a hut near the high school, hauls his water for drinking, cooking and washing. He must obtain all of his food from town and cook it on a small gas flame. He has no electricity so does his homework by candlelight. On Sunday he comes to our flat to borrow an iron to beautifully press the yellow dress shirts required for high school in South Africa. He is paid a small amount to teach Zulu to the Americans (R40 per week) but that does not cover taxi fare to town to buy food or visit his family. He never complains and is upbeat about going to university next year. He is a stellar student and will not give up until every assignment is done well and he understands the concepts. Friday night he came to our flat as he had no food and wanted 2 cups of mealy meal to make his supper. He was surprised and disappointed to learn that the Americans had no mealy meal (corn meal, the basic staple of SA) in their cupboard-only Jungle oats, which were offered along with sausage, spinach and a peach. What sacrifice for a young man to endure in order to obtain the excellent education at the high school. Stories of struggling students in American cannot compare with the grinding poverty we have seen.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Unexpected Weekend in Vryheid
After a great trip touring Zululand last week with our US pals, we decided to stay at Mountain High Hospital for the weekend and catch up on our reading. (our replacement ATM cards from the US have not arrived and the Peace Corps stipend of $250 does not stretch very far). Easter plans include a trip to the Cape so we will be traveling again in a few weeks and were content to stay at our site.
However, the water woes continued at Mountain High. No water poured out of the taps every morning this week. As good Peace Corps Volunteers must do, we practiced patience and flexibility, changing our water usage (showers, dish washing, filling pots and pans with water, hand washing) to a short period in the evenings when the students in the high school are in study hall and the demand is lessened. Friday night arrived and we celebrated by making pizza. Alas shortly after taking the pizza out of the oven the taps ran dry. We had forgotten that there is no study hall on Friday night. The dishes from the day had piled up in the sink and our pitchers were depleted. All night the faucets were as dry as the bones in Ezekiel.
We got up at 5am on Saturday morning and found the same dry conditions so we changed our plans, packed up a few things and hurried to the only taxi that goes directly to town each Monday through Saturday. To our surprise we were the first passengers to arrive at the cement bench that serves as the taxi stand. The morning had a touch of fall in the air and the sunrise was shrouded in a pink mist. The days are growing shorter with sunrise at 6am, contrasting with the early sunrise of 430am during the height of summer. Life as a poor person in South Africa is a series of “Hurry Up and Wait” as an inordinate amount of time is spent waiting for the taxi to fill, waiting in the long lines at the bank (all bills are paid by deposits into the creditors bank account), and the long lines at the discount grocery stores with names like Boxer, Score and Shoprite. If one has electricity or a cell phone, queues are required to purchase pay as you go coupons that seem to run out very fast. Life is spent catching up. Most rural people do not have spares of household items or stockpiles of food in the larder. When they run out of food, light bulbs, toilet paper, propane, or kerosene, it is an all day trip to town to buy the necessary item. Substitutions are made during tough times – phone books and magazines work as toilet paper.
Many of the Mountain High residents are almost self sufficient, cutting down trees in the forest for firewood for cooking, growing mealies (corn), raising cattle and goats. They walk around with their long heavy knives swinging from their hands, which was a little menacing to Peace Corps volunteers at first. The women also cut down trees and use a turban on their heads to balance the heavy hard wood trunks, which must be hauled down the steep paths to their homes. Water is transported in plastic carboys balanced on their heads. Much of the day is spent fetching water, wood and livestock. The children of the local community are disadvantaged compared to the boarding students as have to 2 hour hikes each way on rough trails to get to school and then must tend cattle, haul water and wood when they get home. The quality of life would dramatically improve if rural residents had easy access to water and electricity. A large part of the day is spent in basic maintenance, rather than school work or leisure.
The Saturday morning ride to town is always an upbeat experience as the scenery is gorgeous and we are delighted to return to the first world for a break from the stresses and discomforts of the Hospital. We check in at Rita’s Guest House at 730 am and are greeted as family. There is no equivalent to Rita’s in the US as it is a 29 room guest house that is also the residence of the owner. She is a lively woman who loves to tell stories about the strange habits of her guests. The facility is also used for meetings and weddings- functions as they are called here in SA. The staff complains about weddings where the guests are boisterous and also about the weddings where no one drinks and the party is a bore. Rita is also a travel agent and knows every inch of SA, a country she deeply loves. She knows all of her guests by name and their favorite room, which are all individually decorated in Rita’s flouncy style. The lounge and halls are covered with African art, needlepoint, carved animals, Dutch kitsch and more. We spend hours sitting out in the beautiful garden and pool area planted with familiar and unfamiliar flowers and trees. Birds are also her guests-we are awakened each morning by the screeching Hadeda Ibis’s looking for grubs in the grass. All this for R380 ($50) a night, including breakfast.
Happy Birthday to my sister Lillian, who has been a faithful correspondant each week since we arrived. You are loved and appreciated. Thanks for your support.
However, the water woes continued at Mountain High. No water poured out of the taps every morning this week. As good Peace Corps Volunteers must do, we practiced patience and flexibility, changing our water usage (showers, dish washing, filling pots and pans with water, hand washing) to a short period in the evenings when the students in the high school are in study hall and the demand is lessened. Friday night arrived and we celebrated by making pizza. Alas shortly after taking the pizza out of the oven the taps ran dry. We had forgotten that there is no study hall on Friday night. The dishes from the day had piled up in the sink and our pitchers were depleted. All night the faucets were as dry as the bones in Ezekiel.
We got up at 5am on Saturday morning and found the same dry conditions so we changed our plans, packed up a few things and hurried to the only taxi that goes directly to town each Monday through Saturday. To our surprise we were the first passengers to arrive at the cement bench that serves as the taxi stand. The morning had a touch of fall in the air and the sunrise was shrouded in a pink mist. The days are growing shorter with sunrise at 6am, contrasting with the early sunrise of 430am during the height of summer. Life as a poor person in South Africa is a series of “Hurry Up and Wait” as an inordinate amount of time is spent waiting for the taxi to fill, waiting in the long lines at the bank (all bills are paid by deposits into the creditors bank account), and the long lines at the discount grocery stores with names like Boxer, Score and Shoprite. If one has electricity or a cell phone, queues are required to purchase pay as you go coupons that seem to run out very fast. Life is spent catching up. Most rural people do not have spares of household items or stockpiles of food in the larder. When they run out of food, light bulbs, toilet paper, propane, or kerosene, it is an all day trip to town to buy the necessary item. Substitutions are made during tough times – phone books and magazines work as toilet paper.
Many of the Mountain High residents are almost self sufficient, cutting down trees in the forest for firewood for cooking, growing mealies (corn), raising cattle and goats. They walk around with their long heavy knives swinging from their hands, which was a little menacing to Peace Corps volunteers at first. The women also cut down trees and use a turban on their heads to balance the heavy hard wood trunks, which must be hauled down the steep paths to their homes. Water is transported in plastic carboys balanced on their heads. Much of the day is spent fetching water, wood and livestock. The children of the local community are disadvantaged compared to the boarding students as have to 2 hour hikes each way on rough trails to get to school and then must tend cattle, haul water and wood when they get home. The quality of life would dramatically improve if rural residents had easy access to water and electricity. A large part of the day is spent in basic maintenance, rather than school work or leisure.
The Saturday morning ride to town is always an upbeat experience as the scenery is gorgeous and we are delighted to return to the first world for a break from the stresses and discomforts of the Hospital. We check in at Rita’s Guest House at 730 am and are greeted as family. There is no equivalent to Rita’s in the US as it is a 29 room guest house that is also the residence of the owner. She is a lively woman who loves to tell stories about the strange habits of her guests. The facility is also used for meetings and weddings- functions as they are called here in SA. The staff complains about weddings where the guests are boisterous and also about the weddings where no one drinks and the party is a bore. Rita is also a travel agent and knows every inch of SA, a country she deeply loves. She knows all of her guests by name and their favorite room, which are all individually decorated in Rita’s flouncy style. The lounge and halls are covered with African art, needlepoint, carved animals, Dutch kitsch and more. We spend hours sitting out in the beautiful garden and pool area planted with familiar and unfamiliar flowers and trees. Birds are also her guests-we are awakened each morning by the screeching Hadeda Ibis’s looking for grubs in the grass. All this for R380 ($50) a night, including breakfast.
Happy Birthday to my sister Lillian, who has been a faithful correspondant each week since we arrived. You are loved and appreciated. Thanks for your support.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
So Cal Pals Visit
Today is Brendon’s 60th birthday. The entire week was a stupendous celebration as we toured Zululand with our friends, Melinda and Ron, from Palos Verdes, CA. Happy Birthday to a wonderful husband and friend! This is one birthday we won’t forget. Today we are on the Greyhound bus returning to our Mountain High Hospital home and musing over the events of the week.
To get to South Africa our friends had an 11 hour flight from LAX to Frankfurt and another 11 hour flight to Johannesburg. From Jo burg they drove 5 hours through the farm regions of South Africa (Mpumalanga) to Kwa Zulu Natal where they met us in front of the beautiful stone church in the center of our town Vryheid. What a treat to see a familiar face and hear American English. We were so excited to see them and hear the news from home. We headed out to the nearby game lodge, Mpofini, and immediately set out on foot to see the game; zebras, giraffes, wart hogs darting in and out with their tails up leading their babies, impalas, nyalas and more. We stayed in a bush lodge camp which consisted of two bedrooms, a kitchen in-between and an outdoor barbeque area which served as a lounge/dining area. The fire was started, the party food laid out and the conversation verve began. I looked up at the open gateway in the stake fence and was alarmed to see a 6 ft ostrich walking in to join us for dinner. At first glimpse I thought it was an elephant so was relieved that it was only big bird. However ostriches have a nasty reputation for biting and kicking so the four us looked at each other and tried to develop a strategy for ostrich removal. Ron used his best predator down stare; I headed for the broom. While Ron locked eyes with the huge avian, I started yelling in my best Zulu and swinging the broom. The ostrich hesitated as we sensed that perhaps this bush camp was his home territory. Melinda couldn’t stop laughing at this ridiculous scene with Susan swinging her broom in Zulu and Ron in his finest bravado form. Finally after shrieking at him for several minutes he backed away and went off into the night. Score one for the California folk!
That night the California visitors heard drums and thought it might be over for the last remaining visitors at the game park. Unfortunately, the lodge is being converted to a hunting camp. Thus we were the last overnight guests in the rugged, yet beautiful, surroundings. By morning the world seemed safe and we headed off for a game drive to see the animals living their lives in a natural setting where competition and death are part of the everyday scene as well as love, child rearing, dominance, and play. The park is in a lovely bowl with acres of grassland and acacias forming a backdrop for the game. We drove over the saddle of the mountain to visit the hippos lounging in their pond and the large herd of ostrich. The guide was asked about the interloper from the previous evening and he retorted that the ostriches were harmless. We felt a little foolish for our alarm the night before but one look at the massive feet on the bird was enough to scare us into our defensive tactics.
After the game drive we headed to Vryheid where we toured all of the Zulu craft stores and muti (traditional medicine) shops. Melinda had an encounter with a rough spot on the sidewalk. What a good sport about a nasty fall. The local Afrikaans dentist was around the corner. He checked out her teeth and jaw, did an x-ray and wished her well, refusing any payment for services. Another act of kindness in South Africa!
Our visitors were interested in visiting our Peace Corps site, Mountain High Hospital, the patient activities program and the excellent Zulu high school that shares our site. I met Melinda as a student in her Shakespearian Comedies and Tragedies class at El Camino College. She offered her services to teach the sonnets to the Matric (senior) students at the high school and was a big hit with these highly motivated students. The universal themes of shame and despair were quickly understood by the 80 seniors and they enjoyed hearing rhyming meter. They read a Zulu poem in unison and sang the SA National anthem which brought tears to the eyes of the Peace Corps volunteers who will be going home soon. A great day and a pleasure for all!
The rest of the week was spent touring KZN game parks and visiting St. Lucia, a fantastic vacation plan for anyone wanting to tour malaria free areas of South Africa. The highlight of the game spotting occurred when least expected. As we drove into Hluhluwe Game Park, (the oldest national park in SA and King Shaka’s hunting grounds) we spotted an animal with a white tail in the middle of the road ahead. We slowly caught up to the animal and couldn’t believe our eyes- a beautiful Leopard walking calmly down the middle of the paved road that leads to Hilltop Bush Camp. We followed the leopard for a kilometer until the rosettes finally darted into the bush. The leopard turned his head and looked back at us; were we lunch? Predators have a stateliness and focus of mission about them that is unmistakable. The face had a sweetness and tenderness to it, but the movement of the body spoke force and command.
After a week of great conversation and fun, it is time to get back to work. Thanks, Ron and Melinda for a great adventure!
To get to South Africa our friends had an 11 hour flight from LAX to Frankfurt and another 11 hour flight to Johannesburg. From Jo burg they drove 5 hours through the farm regions of South Africa (Mpumalanga) to Kwa Zulu Natal where they met us in front of the beautiful stone church in the center of our town Vryheid. What a treat to see a familiar face and hear American English. We were so excited to see them and hear the news from home. We headed out to the nearby game lodge, Mpofini, and immediately set out on foot to see the game; zebras, giraffes, wart hogs darting in and out with their tails up leading their babies, impalas, nyalas and more. We stayed in a bush lodge camp which consisted of two bedrooms, a kitchen in-between and an outdoor barbeque area which served as a lounge/dining area. The fire was started, the party food laid out and the conversation verve began. I looked up at the open gateway in the stake fence and was alarmed to see a 6 ft ostrich walking in to join us for dinner. At first glimpse I thought it was an elephant so was relieved that it was only big bird. However ostriches have a nasty reputation for biting and kicking so the four us looked at each other and tried to develop a strategy for ostrich removal. Ron used his best predator down stare; I headed for the broom. While Ron locked eyes with the huge avian, I started yelling in my best Zulu and swinging the broom. The ostrich hesitated as we sensed that perhaps this bush camp was his home territory. Melinda couldn’t stop laughing at this ridiculous scene with Susan swinging her broom in Zulu and Ron in his finest bravado form. Finally after shrieking at him for several minutes he backed away and went off into the night. Score one for the California folk!
That night the California visitors heard drums and thought it might be over for the last remaining visitors at the game park. Unfortunately, the lodge is being converted to a hunting camp. Thus we were the last overnight guests in the rugged, yet beautiful, surroundings. By morning the world seemed safe and we headed off for a game drive to see the animals living their lives in a natural setting where competition and death are part of the everyday scene as well as love, child rearing, dominance, and play. The park is in a lovely bowl with acres of grassland and acacias forming a backdrop for the game. We drove over the saddle of the mountain to visit the hippos lounging in their pond and the large herd of ostrich. The guide was asked about the interloper from the previous evening and he retorted that the ostriches were harmless. We felt a little foolish for our alarm the night before but one look at the massive feet on the bird was enough to scare us into our defensive tactics.
After the game drive we headed to Vryheid where we toured all of the Zulu craft stores and muti (traditional medicine) shops. Melinda had an encounter with a rough spot on the sidewalk. What a good sport about a nasty fall. The local Afrikaans dentist was around the corner. He checked out her teeth and jaw, did an x-ray and wished her well, refusing any payment for services. Another act of kindness in South Africa!
Our visitors were interested in visiting our Peace Corps site, Mountain High Hospital, the patient activities program and the excellent Zulu high school that shares our site. I met Melinda as a student in her Shakespearian Comedies and Tragedies class at El Camino College. She offered her services to teach the sonnets to the Matric (senior) students at the high school and was a big hit with these highly motivated students. The universal themes of shame and despair were quickly understood by the 80 seniors and they enjoyed hearing rhyming meter. They read a Zulu poem in unison and sang the SA National anthem which brought tears to the eyes of the Peace Corps volunteers who will be going home soon. A great day and a pleasure for all!
The rest of the week was spent touring KZN game parks and visiting St. Lucia, a fantastic vacation plan for anyone wanting to tour malaria free areas of South Africa. The highlight of the game spotting occurred when least expected. As we drove into Hluhluwe Game Park, (the oldest national park in SA and King Shaka’s hunting grounds) we spotted an animal with a white tail in the middle of the road ahead. We slowly caught up to the animal and couldn’t believe our eyes- a beautiful Leopard walking calmly down the middle of the paved road that leads to Hilltop Bush Camp. We followed the leopard for a kilometer until the rosettes finally darted into the bush. The leopard turned his head and looked back at us; were we lunch? Predators have a stateliness and focus of mission about them that is unmistakable. The face had a sweetness and tenderness to it, but the movement of the body spoke force and command.
After a week of great conversation and fun, it is time to get back to work. Thanks, Ron and Melinda for a great adventure!
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Kindness in South Africa
This week restored my faith in humanity and South Africa. After returning to Mountain High Hospital last Sunday afternoon from a weekend in our shopping town, Brendon noticed that his wallet was missing. Mentally we retraced our steps from lunch, to the back row of the taxi where we were squashed with four passengers for the ride up the mountain, to our flat, and finally out back for a haircut. The last sighting was at the restaurant. Monday, Brendon called the small restaurant and inquired about the wallet but none had been found. Dismay set in as the wallet contained his California driver’s license and credit cards, plus a small amount of rand. (We learned after the Thanksgiving mugging to never carry around much money). Ugh! No more driving in South Africa as it would be impossible to get a replacement without returning to California. Driving is dangerous in South Africa but a true pleasure and a necessity if one wants to visit the national parks or see the fabulous African terrain, flora and fauna. The Peace Corps allows volunteers to rent cars when they are on leave. (The Bonds are not ones to stay at home when Vic Falls, Botswana, Namibia, and the Cape beckon). Thus far I have been afraid to drive on the left and worried that I cannot undo 40 years of “Stay Right”. A further complication occurred on the weekend when we went to the ATM to withdraw some US funds and discovered that our ATM cards had expired in January.
By Monday afternoon, I had resolved to learn to drive on the left for our next leave at Easter to the Cape, Hermanus and Stellenbosch. Our Zulu teacher arrived for our language lesson and we told him about our troubles over the weekend. We theorized that the wallet may have fallen out of Brendon’s back pocket in the crowded taxi. I asked Gobese if there was a Lost and Found at the Taxi Rank. He answered that there was no formal Lost and Found but he would call his friend who worked with the Rank Manager. He placed the call and a few minutes later his friend called back saying that a wallet had been turned in on Sunday. Hope for the Bond’s! Tuesday afternoon, Gogese arrived at our flat and asked if we had found the wallet. We answered, No, but we were still hopeful. He then pulled the black leather wallet out of his pocket with a big smile on his face. His friend rode the taxi all of the way up the mountain to deliver the wallet to Gobese at school that day. What a Miracle! Brendon and I were so thrilled that the Zulus would make such an effort for this act of kindness and honesty. I was ecstatic and felt blessed by this uplifting incident. (Plus I believe the South African roads will be much safer with Brendon driving.)
Blessings continued this week as we traveled to Amangwe Village, a Peace Corps site near the coast, to teach beading as part of their community development program. Amangwe Village was a former Mondi lumber company residential town that was converted to a center for teaching job skills and Zulu economic empowerment. Thanks to Alycia for inviting us and giving us the opportunity to see an effective NGO program in a beautiful tropical setting. My goal was to teach all five Zulu beading stitches during the three 4 hour sessions. The first session was 20 hospital patients from the next door hospital who were eager to learn their own culture. The next day included two sessions with 40 child care and home health workers who came to the village to learn organic gardening skills. These two groups were highly motivated and almost mastered four of the five stitches. I tried to give them a break midway through the training session, but they called out “We’re busy” and have no time to sing or drink tea. It was so fun to teach patients who were healthy and could push themselves to learn and perfect the techniques. They chatted, laughed and gossiped in their small circles, enjoying the experience of creating something beautiful from a few pieces of glass. I felt blessed that I could give them something of their own culture as they have the colorful patterns and art forms in their minds, but have never been taught the stitches. This could be another career path for Susan Bond when she returns home- Zulu Beading Teacher Extraordinaire! Life holds many surprises-What’s Ahead?
By Monday afternoon, I had resolved to learn to drive on the left for our next leave at Easter to the Cape, Hermanus and Stellenbosch. Our Zulu teacher arrived for our language lesson and we told him about our troubles over the weekend. We theorized that the wallet may have fallen out of Brendon’s back pocket in the crowded taxi. I asked Gobese if there was a Lost and Found at the Taxi Rank. He answered that there was no formal Lost and Found but he would call his friend who worked with the Rank Manager. He placed the call and a few minutes later his friend called back saying that a wallet had been turned in on Sunday. Hope for the Bond’s! Tuesday afternoon, Gogese arrived at our flat and asked if we had found the wallet. We answered, No, but we were still hopeful. He then pulled the black leather wallet out of his pocket with a big smile on his face. His friend rode the taxi all of the way up the mountain to deliver the wallet to Gobese at school that day. What a Miracle! Brendon and I were so thrilled that the Zulus would make such an effort for this act of kindness and honesty. I was ecstatic and felt blessed by this uplifting incident. (Plus I believe the South African roads will be much safer with Brendon driving.)
Blessings continued this week as we traveled to Amangwe Village, a Peace Corps site near the coast, to teach beading as part of their community development program. Amangwe Village was a former Mondi lumber company residential town that was converted to a center for teaching job skills and Zulu economic empowerment. Thanks to Alycia for inviting us and giving us the opportunity to see an effective NGO program in a beautiful tropical setting. My goal was to teach all five Zulu beading stitches during the three 4 hour sessions. The first session was 20 hospital patients from the next door hospital who were eager to learn their own culture. The next day included two sessions with 40 child care and home health workers who came to the village to learn organic gardening skills. These two groups were highly motivated and almost mastered four of the five stitches. I tried to give them a break midway through the training session, but they called out “We’re busy” and have no time to sing or drink tea. It was so fun to teach patients who were healthy and could push themselves to learn and perfect the techniques. They chatted, laughed and gossiped in their small circles, enjoying the experience of creating something beautiful from a few pieces of glass. I felt blessed that I could give them something of their own culture as they have the colorful patterns and art forms in their minds, but have never been taught the stitches. This could be another career path for Susan Bond when she returns home- Zulu Beading Teacher Extraordinaire! Life holds many surprises-What’s Ahead?
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Water Blues
It’s South Africa and “SEVEN TIMES” seems to be a rule of life- Seven Rand to the Dollar; a job takes seven times the time and money originally estimated; meetings are seven times as long as those conducted in the US with seven times the speeches; there are seven meals in a day; and any decision takes seven times the discussion with seven times the number of people consulted. This week the rule of Seven sent me to the brink of total frustration, which was then countered with acceptance and the Serenity Prayer: God help me to change what I can change, help me to accept what I cannot change and give me the wisdom to know the difference.
Last week’s blog described the water shortages and the surprise visit by the Zululand Water Engineer who promised to send a tanker truck with treated water as a clean backup supply for the AIDS patients. He requested that the rain water in the 7 auxiliary tanks be cleaned out for the new supply and promised to provide the truck the same day. The truck did not arrive that day or the next, or the next, etc. However, Tuesday night, seven days later, I passed the tanker truck while jogging on the dirt road into the Hospital. I was incredulous that a filled tanker would attempt the trip at 6pm. I stopped the truck and told the driver that the Hospital had seven tanks that needed clean treated water, especially the one directly behind the wards. (When the taps in the Hospital are dry the nurses must haul basins of water from the auxiliary tanks on the Hospital grounds to the patients in the wards. AIDS patients are especially susceptible to water born infections such as cholera, giardia and cyclospora).
After my jog, I returned to the Hospital and could not find the Tanker Truck. When queried, the security guard motioned in the direction of the high school. I sighed and ran over to the high school in time to see the water overflowing from the top of their single auxiliary tank unto the bare red dirt. I yelled “Mana” (Stop)!!! The driver stated that the guard had told him that the Hospital did not need any water and he should proceed to the high school. The truck was emptying the water on the ground because the driver did not want to make the long trip back to town with an almost full tank. I could barely conceal my anger and told the driver to go to the Hospital and fill the 7 tanks so that the AIDS patients could have access to clean water when the pump wasn’t working or demand exceeded supply. The driver turned his huge truck around and headed towards the Hospital. The guard opened up the gate and the truck headed to the tank closest to the road. By this time it was getting dark and navigating the narrow openings between hospital buildings is tricky even in the daytime.
I ran to the large tank behind the hospital wards and sighed again. It was turned on its side and had a large hole. File (Broken!) The tank had not been prepared for the clean supply as per the plan laid out by the water engineer and staff. Disaster hit again as the tanker truck drove the narrow driveway by the wards and pulled out the low hanging telephone wire protruding from the ward. The tanker topped off two more outlying tanks on the grounds hurried out of the Hospital. The results of this fiasco- no clean water for the patients and no telephone service, probably for seven days until the repairman can make the long trip up the mountain. I was angry for the wasted trip by the water company and the curious set of circumstances that resulted in isipithipithi (total chaos), instead of a short term solution to the water shortage.
The next morning in American fashion, I lashed out at the guard that sent the truck away, the maintenance staff who did not prepare the tanks, and at my coworkers who were nonplussed by the events. This aggravation was not in the best Peace Corps spirit and did not help the staff to solve the problem on their own. By Wednesday afternoon, I felt sadness but my frustration and anger had subsided. The words of the serenity prayer hit home, which I needed to repeat Seven Times!
As for the part of Africa that we can change, albeit small, the computer classes for the Hospital staff have begun. Twenty five employees signed up for the classes which are taught after work, using the 3 office computers with three students taught one on one for eight lessons. The classes have been mixed with some success; two of the four students dropped out due to other commitments after work. However, we will continue to plug in students until we go home on June 28, our close of service date. Hopefully, all of the interested staff will get a chance to become literate with the computer. They will have to practice the typing program on their own. We hesitated to start the computer training, waiting for a training room with training computers, but decided to go with what was available as time is growing short for two short time volunteers.
Last week’s blog described the water shortages and the surprise visit by the Zululand Water Engineer who promised to send a tanker truck with treated water as a clean backup supply for the AIDS patients. He requested that the rain water in the 7 auxiliary tanks be cleaned out for the new supply and promised to provide the truck the same day. The truck did not arrive that day or the next, or the next, etc. However, Tuesday night, seven days later, I passed the tanker truck while jogging on the dirt road into the Hospital. I was incredulous that a filled tanker would attempt the trip at 6pm. I stopped the truck and told the driver that the Hospital had seven tanks that needed clean treated water, especially the one directly behind the wards. (When the taps in the Hospital are dry the nurses must haul basins of water from the auxiliary tanks on the Hospital grounds to the patients in the wards. AIDS patients are especially susceptible to water born infections such as cholera, giardia and cyclospora).
After my jog, I returned to the Hospital and could not find the Tanker Truck. When queried, the security guard motioned in the direction of the high school. I sighed and ran over to the high school in time to see the water overflowing from the top of their single auxiliary tank unto the bare red dirt. I yelled “Mana” (Stop)!!! The driver stated that the guard had told him that the Hospital did not need any water and he should proceed to the high school. The truck was emptying the water on the ground because the driver did not want to make the long trip back to town with an almost full tank. I could barely conceal my anger and told the driver to go to the Hospital and fill the 7 tanks so that the AIDS patients could have access to clean water when the pump wasn’t working or demand exceeded supply. The driver turned his huge truck around and headed towards the Hospital. The guard opened up the gate and the truck headed to the tank closest to the road. By this time it was getting dark and navigating the narrow openings between hospital buildings is tricky even in the daytime.
I ran to the large tank behind the hospital wards and sighed again. It was turned on its side and had a large hole. File (Broken!) The tank had not been prepared for the clean supply as per the plan laid out by the water engineer and staff. Disaster hit again as the tanker truck drove the narrow driveway by the wards and pulled out the low hanging telephone wire protruding from the ward. The tanker topped off two more outlying tanks on the grounds hurried out of the Hospital. The results of this fiasco- no clean water for the patients and no telephone service, probably for seven days until the repairman can make the long trip up the mountain. I was angry for the wasted trip by the water company and the curious set of circumstances that resulted in isipithipithi (total chaos), instead of a short term solution to the water shortage.
The next morning in American fashion, I lashed out at the guard that sent the truck away, the maintenance staff who did not prepare the tanks, and at my coworkers who were nonplussed by the events. This aggravation was not in the best Peace Corps spirit and did not help the staff to solve the problem on their own. By Wednesday afternoon, I felt sadness but my frustration and anger had subsided. The words of the serenity prayer hit home, which I needed to repeat Seven Times!
As for the part of Africa that we can change, albeit small, the computer classes for the Hospital staff have begun. Twenty five employees signed up for the classes which are taught after work, using the 3 office computers with three students taught one on one for eight lessons. The classes have been mixed with some success; two of the four students dropped out due to other commitments after work. However, we will continue to plug in students until we go home on June 28, our close of service date. Hopefully, all of the interested staff will get a chance to become literate with the computer. They will have to practice the typing program on their own. We hesitated to start the computer training, waiting for a training room with training computers, but decided to go with what was available as time is growing short for two short time volunteers.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Mountain High Woes and Wows
Good News-Power at the Hospital returned this week with Load Shedding a fact of life for South Africa but with unpredictable patterns. The water shortage did not abate however, and grew worse on Tuesday with nothing coming out of the spigots in the early morning and some evenings. (Great excuse to put off washing dishes). We set out for Vryhied early Saturday morning with a pile of dishes sitting in the sink which will be waiting when we return this afternoon.
With American zeal, I called engineering firms and municipal water officials to determine the root cause of the water shortages. Since the power was working, the lack of treated water must be due to another problem besides load shedding; maybe a broken pipe, pump, inadequate tank capacity or increased demand from the doubling of the boys boarding facility. Ironically the small lake and river that are the source of our supply are abundantly full, due to above average rainfall this year. To our surprise, an engineer from Zululand Water arrived at the Hospital and stated that the pump was too small to provide water for the 500 persons using the system and a plan would have to be developed to replace the pump. In the meantime the utility company would provide a tanker truck of treated water. However, the tanker truck has not arrived and the nurses must take care of very sick AIDS patients with intermittent water supplies.
The nurses are the heroes at the Hospital. The professional nurses (called Sisters) are the US version of registered nurses. They are very experienced and have had several careers in nursing, which is a good thing because they have the character to deal with day to day crises, shortages of supplies, lack of a generator or clean water. This week the Hospital had another sort of crisis with the nurses, director and doctor at odds with each other creating a tense atmosphere. Peace Corps volunteers could not ameliorate the situation, only observe and feel pain from the disconnect. Dedicated professionals, taking care of suffering indigent AIDS patients, could not work as a team. Their squabbling caused us more personal grief than the water shortages or those long trips to town for food. Finger pointing and fault finding seemed to be the norm rather than problem solving.
In spite of the difficulties of the week, several positive developments occurred. First, an order for 20 fleece hats and scarves arrived from an NGO in JoBurg so at last some funding for continuation of the occupational therapy program for the patients has started up. (Of course it will take sales of around 2000 items to fully fund the volunteer coordinator and the quality fabric, beads and shoe materials that the Peace Corps grant paid for this year.) Winter is coming and the fleece hats look very inviting on a cold day- pension distribution points in March look like a good marketing tactic. This week was spent getting the JoBurg order ready and knotting the fleece scarves with yarn fringe.
Brendon and I finally connected with the Principal at the public high school that shares Mountain High. We have been tutoring and mentoring several Zulu students but want to formally offer assistance to the school. Peace Corps encourages a secondary project at each site. The charming man welcomed us with open arms and we wondered why we hadn’t met with him sooner. The high school has 500 students, most of them boarders. They come from all over Zululand and as far as JoBurg and Durban to attend this institution, named after the first Zulu Christian convert. The school has 100% of its students pass the national matric exam each year, the best record for any public school. However, there is the age old problem of town vs gown with most of the local children dropping out before 11th grade but a great education is available, even in this extreme rural site. The students have no distractions as there is no TV, internet, video games, shopping mall or fast food within 40 miles. They are required to attend study hall from 6 to 9 pm each night. They are highly motivated and understand that their role as the promise of the new South Africa. This school has no discipline problems with every student in class, listening attentively to the teacher’s lectures and doing the required work. In South Africa, the certificate or standard is what counts in getting a good job and a bright future.
In spite of no science laboratories, no textbooks in many subjects, and 40 or 50 students per class, signs of progress are in the works. The school has just received 24 top-of-the line personal computers for the students and beautiful new biology textbooks. We offered our services to assist with the computer lab, tutor in the sciences, organize an AIDS awareness day for the students in conjunction with the Hospital staff, and provide a Shakespeare instructor for a special session. (Welcome Melinda). The Principal joyfully embraced all of the ideas and asked Brendon to work on the network that day. The new South Africa is optimistic about the future and we saw this hope embodied in the staff at the high school. AIDs Awareness Day is especially poignant as the students are on summer vacation during the December program. HIV infection rates are finally going down among teenagers but plateaus as soon as the youth leave home in their 20’s. Hopefully an assembly devoted to AIDS education and the theme “Make a plan to stay AIDS Free for Life” will empower the students, lessen the stigma, and open up a dialogue.
With American zeal, I called engineering firms and municipal water officials to determine the root cause of the water shortages. Since the power was working, the lack of treated water must be due to another problem besides load shedding; maybe a broken pipe, pump, inadequate tank capacity or increased demand from the doubling of the boys boarding facility. Ironically the small lake and river that are the source of our supply are abundantly full, due to above average rainfall this year. To our surprise, an engineer from Zululand Water arrived at the Hospital and stated that the pump was too small to provide water for the 500 persons using the system and a plan would have to be developed to replace the pump. In the meantime the utility company would provide a tanker truck of treated water. However, the tanker truck has not arrived and the nurses must take care of very sick AIDS patients with intermittent water supplies.
The nurses are the heroes at the Hospital. The professional nurses (called Sisters) are the US version of registered nurses. They are very experienced and have had several careers in nursing, which is a good thing because they have the character to deal with day to day crises, shortages of supplies, lack of a generator or clean water. This week the Hospital had another sort of crisis with the nurses, director and doctor at odds with each other creating a tense atmosphere. Peace Corps volunteers could not ameliorate the situation, only observe and feel pain from the disconnect. Dedicated professionals, taking care of suffering indigent AIDS patients, could not work as a team. Their squabbling caused us more personal grief than the water shortages or those long trips to town for food. Finger pointing and fault finding seemed to be the norm rather than problem solving.
In spite of the difficulties of the week, several positive developments occurred. First, an order for 20 fleece hats and scarves arrived from an NGO in JoBurg so at last some funding for continuation of the occupational therapy program for the patients has started up. (Of course it will take sales of around 2000 items to fully fund the volunteer coordinator and the quality fabric, beads and shoe materials that the Peace Corps grant paid for this year.) Winter is coming and the fleece hats look very inviting on a cold day- pension distribution points in March look like a good marketing tactic. This week was spent getting the JoBurg order ready and knotting the fleece scarves with yarn fringe.
Brendon and I finally connected with the Principal at the public high school that shares Mountain High. We have been tutoring and mentoring several Zulu students but want to formally offer assistance to the school. Peace Corps encourages a secondary project at each site. The charming man welcomed us with open arms and we wondered why we hadn’t met with him sooner. The high school has 500 students, most of them boarders. They come from all over Zululand and as far as JoBurg and Durban to attend this institution, named after the first Zulu Christian convert. The school has 100% of its students pass the national matric exam each year, the best record for any public school. However, there is the age old problem of town vs gown with most of the local children dropping out before 11th grade but a great education is available, even in this extreme rural site. The students have no distractions as there is no TV, internet, video games, shopping mall or fast food within 40 miles. They are required to attend study hall from 6 to 9 pm each night. They are highly motivated and understand that their role as the promise of the new South Africa. This school has no discipline problems with every student in class, listening attentively to the teacher’s lectures and doing the required work. In South Africa, the certificate or standard is what counts in getting a good job and a bright future.
In spite of no science laboratories, no textbooks in many subjects, and 40 or 50 students per class, signs of progress are in the works. The school has just received 24 top-of-the line personal computers for the students and beautiful new biology textbooks. We offered our services to assist with the computer lab, tutor in the sciences, organize an AIDS awareness day for the students in conjunction with the Hospital staff, and provide a Shakespeare instructor for a special session. (Welcome Melinda). The Principal joyfully embraced all of the ideas and asked Brendon to work on the network that day. The new South Africa is optimistic about the future and we saw this hope embodied in the staff at the high school. AIDs Awareness Day is especially poignant as the students are on summer vacation during the December program. HIV infection rates are finally going down among teenagers but plateaus as soon as the youth leave home in their 20’s. Hopefully an assembly devoted to AIDS education and the theme “Make a plan to stay AIDS Free for Life” will empower the students, lessen the stigma, and open up a dialogue.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Escape to Leopard Mountain
So How’z it for the power crisis in SA? How does a Peace Corps Volunteer cope with no power? The power problem has settled into a pattern of no electricity for a few hours a day. So Why Worry! Akuna Matata! Unfortunately the power issue stretches its nasty web over all of the first world amenities- thus when the electricity shuts down in a remote location like Mountain High Hospital the clean water supply goes kaput and hot water is a pipe dream.
Last Sunday we awoke with no water because of the lack of power to drive the pump for the water system. The pump was primed and electricity restored several hours later. On Thursday the electricity was on “load shedding” and by Friday the power was back but the water and hot water were nowhere to be found. At 11 am the water mechanic announced that the water was on the blitz again. Brendon and I have been adapting to a lack of power with the purchase of candles, flashlights, batteries and a small barbeque for cooking but water restriction puts a damper (no pun intended) on many human activities. So with this announcement and the prospect of no power, water or hot water for the weekend we decided to TGIF (Thank God It’s Friday) by noon and head off to somewhere? Hopefully someplace with clean water! We hitched a ride to town and discussed where to go on of our two weekends offsite for the month.
A Peace Corp Volunteer (thank you Brad) had inquired about a game lodge which is nearby, Leopard Mountain Lodge. However, as the bird flies and the obscure dirt road make this destination a complicated getaway. However, speedy rides to town were coupled with transport to this beautiful lodge and game preserve, 10 km off the N2 highway. What a find! We have been eager to stay at a game lodge that is on the coastal track but have been put off by the prices- only the richest tourists can afford the $1000 per night per person so that they can sleep in air conditioned comfort in a tent with a full bath and butler in the bush. Leopard Mountain Lodge is on the 200,000 hectare Leopard Mountain Preserve and speaks for the future of affordable ecotourism in South Africa. I was embarrassed to call them late Friday as we searched for somewhere to go that would teach us about South Africa and would be fun. Leopard Mountain certainly met the bill! They graciously offered us one of the 6 beautiful thatched chalets high on the mountain above the savannah overlooking the game preserve. Each chalet has comfortable hammocks that swing across the deck. The price per night includes dinner and breakfast, scrumptious tea times and game drives with a lower cost for two people than a hotel room in a US city.
We found our way into Leopard Mountain Lodge late on Friday afternoon and were awed by the amazing location high above the savannah. The chalets are thatched with large covered decks that extend over the mountain cliff. The decorating style is African with local fabrics, tiles and baskets. (It will be hard coming back to the US with hard plaster ceilings that do not absorb noise or provide the insulating capacity (or drama) that beams covered with handhewn thatch provide.) We sat out on the deck for the first few hours gazing at the savannah below with baboon troops running down the dry river and impalas grazing on the hillside. Drums call one to dinner at the “Boma”, a sand pit with gas lanterns, Zulu altarpieces consisting of pots, grasses, sculptures and tables set with fine china, and five course gourmet dinners. Most interesting to note was the fact that there were only three couples enjoying this amazing repast and sensory experience. Entertainment was provided by two toads in stereo competing for territory.
\
Saturday morning, Leopard Mountain provided complimentary game drives on their huge estate, which is now part of the Zululand Black Rhino Preserve. This is an effort to tear down the fences between properties and create an environment where existing game can thrive and former species can be reintroduced. After drinking a cup of real brewed coffee, we headed off in the open air jeep to view the game. One is promised two game drives a day and we took advantage of the offer with other guests as companions. The terrain is lovely with many beautiful African tree canopies, numerous species of birds and raptors and interesting geological formations. The game sightings were splendid-lovely herds of impala and wildebeest with their young, baboons running through the dry river, two cape buffalo cruising the terrain, families of wart hogs, and nyala with their yellow bobby sox and white stripes. The guide, who bears a certificate for wildlife knowledge and safety, stopped midway through the game drive in the dry riverbank for the passengers to stretch their legs and enjoy a cup of tea or cold drink. Surely a civilized way to face game in South Africa! After returning to the lodge where breakfast awaited, we relaxed at the rock pool and enjoyed the panorama below.
When Sunday came it was time to return to the Hospital and face the work for the week. The electricity, water and hot water were all functioning and we were ready for the tasks tomorrow. Peace Corps has taught us to be open to new opportunities and to turn lemons to lemonade. This weekend was full of lemonade and surprises!
Last Sunday we awoke with no water because of the lack of power to drive the pump for the water system. The pump was primed and electricity restored several hours later. On Thursday the electricity was on “load shedding” and by Friday the power was back but the water and hot water were nowhere to be found. At 11 am the water mechanic announced that the water was on the blitz again. Brendon and I have been adapting to a lack of power with the purchase of candles, flashlights, batteries and a small barbeque for cooking but water restriction puts a damper (no pun intended) on many human activities. So with this announcement and the prospect of no power, water or hot water for the weekend we decided to TGIF (Thank God It’s Friday) by noon and head off to somewhere? Hopefully someplace with clean water! We hitched a ride to town and discussed where to go on of our two weekends offsite for the month.
A Peace Corp Volunteer (thank you Brad) had inquired about a game lodge which is nearby, Leopard Mountain Lodge. However, as the bird flies and the obscure dirt road make this destination a complicated getaway. However, speedy rides to town were coupled with transport to this beautiful lodge and game preserve, 10 km off the N2 highway. What a find! We have been eager to stay at a game lodge that is on the coastal track but have been put off by the prices- only the richest tourists can afford the $1000 per night per person so that they can sleep in air conditioned comfort in a tent with a full bath and butler in the bush. Leopard Mountain Lodge is on the 200,000 hectare Leopard Mountain Preserve and speaks for the future of affordable ecotourism in South Africa. I was embarrassed to call them late Friday as we searched for somewhere to go that would teach us about South Africa and would be fun. Leopard Mountain certainly met the bill! They graciously offered us one of the 6 beautiful thatched chalets high on the mountain above the savannah overlooking the game preserve. Each chalet has comfortable hammocks that swing across the deck. The price per night includes dinner and breakfast, scrumptious tea times and game drives with a lower cost for two people than a hotel room in a US city.
We found our way into Leopard Mountain Lodge late on Friday afternoon and were awed by the amazing location high above the savannah. The chalets are thatched with large covered decks that extend over the mountain cliff. The decorating style is African with local fabrics, tiles and baskets. (It will be hard coming back to the US with hard plaster ceilings that do not absorb noise or provide the insulating capacity (or drama) that beams covered with handhewn thatch provide.) We sat out on the deck for the first few hours gazing at the savannah below with baboon troops running down the dry river and impalas grazing on the hillside. Drums call one to dinner at the “Boma”, a sand pit with gas lanterns, Zulu altarpieces consisting of pots, grasses, sculptures and tables set with fine china, and five course gourmet dinners. Most interesting to note was the fact that there were only three couples enjoying this amazing repast and sensory experience. Entertainment was provided by two toads in stereo competing for territory.
\
Saturday morning, Leopard Mountain provided complimentary game drives on their huge estate, which is now part of the Zululand Black Rhino Preserve. This is an effort to tear down the fences between properties and create an environment where existing game can thrive and former species can be reintroduced. After drinking a cup of real brewed coffee, we headed off in the open air jeep to view the game. One is promised two game drives a day and we took advantage of the offer with other guests as companions. The terrain is lovely with many beautiful African tree canopies, numerous species of birds and raptors and interesting geological formations. The game sightings were splendid-lovely herds of impala and wildebeest with their young, baboons running through the dry river, two cape buffalo cruising the terrain, families of wart hogs, and nyala with their yellow bobby sox and white stripes. The guide, who bears a certificate for wildlife knowledge and safety, stopped midway through the game drive in the dry riverbank for the passengers to stretch their legs and enjoy a cup of tea or cold drink. Surely a civilized way to face game in South Africa! After returning to the lodge where breakfast awaited, we relaxed at the rock pool and enjoyed the panorama below.
When Sunday came it was time to return to the Hospital and face the work for the week. The electricity, water and hot water were all functioning and we were ready for the tasks tomorrow. Peace Corps has taught us to be open to new opportunities and to turn lemons to lemonade. This weekend was full of lemonade and surprises!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Load Shedding Anyone?
The fact that South Africa is a developing nation has been ringing home the last two weeks as the whole country has been gripped with “Load Shedding” a euphemism for the utilities shutting down power for several hours a day due to inadequate supplies of electricity. The power plants and transfer stations that should have been developed since apartheid to provide electricity for an industrialized developed nation were handed over to the private sector to build. Alas, since electricity here is a cheap commodity the private sector could not profitably build the infrastructure needed. Voila! The country is short of power with no easy short term fixes.
So what does “Load Shedding” mean for Peace Corps volunteers at a rural site where the power supply is inconsistent anyway? The summer thunderstorms cause numerous outages and one is advised to cook early in the day as electricity provides the only means of heating food on that handy-dandy hot plate. Two weeks ago the power went off suddenly in the morning and did not return until the next day. The day was not stormy so there appeared to be no explanation for the outage. The next day the outage lasted most of the day and finally came back on at 630pm in time to cook dinner. A radio report announced the bad news- the whole country was blacked out for several hours a day. There was no excess capacity and the utility company required each municipality to decide who and when to cut each day. By the fourth or fifth day everyone was getting cranky about the power as there was no pattern to the shut offs. After one week the shut downs took on a pattern with 3 hours out in the morning and two hours from 4 to 6pm. Moods improved when people learned how to plan. However, business losses were huge and traffic came to a standstill as the robots (traffic lights) in the cities did not work not to mention the electrical security fences that guard most of JoBurg. Most retail stores tried to stay open but there were few customers that ventured into town to shop. The tram heading up Table Mountain was stuck part way up. This week the platinum and gold mines had to close, causing the prices to rise and the stock market here to take a nosedive.
The Bonds were prepared for the power outages with their flashlights, headlamps, and candles. Our one room flat was lit up like a scene from a romantic movie. However after the third night of eating cold food and hauling out the old wine bottles used as candle holders the scene grew tiresome. The outages were taking their toll on our food supply with pungent smells coming from the frig. Fortunately after a week the power came on promptly at 630pm in time to cook dinner. At first we joked that the poor in the rural areas were required to sacrifice their sole means of cooking so that the rich in Durban could run their air conditioners during a heat wave but the problem is more complex than a brownout from excessive demand.
Last weekend we muddled whether to take the taxi to town or stay on the mountain, not knowing whether there was power in town. We needed groceries and a change of scenery after being at Mountain High for two weeks. We caught Mr. Zulu’s taxi and checked into our b and b. The young girl at the desk said we had our choice of rooms as the lodge and town were empty. We took a back room away from the road which was a mistake as it faces the rear of a slaughter house which had one of the few generators in town. Promptly at 10am and 4pm, as soon as the power went down, the noisy generator cranked up.
So what to do this weekend when TV and computers were idle? We hiked up the Vryheid Hill to spot game. Not only did we see eland, zebras, bushbuck, and impala, but their n flourishing new born young out learning the ropes. Ever see a baby zebra nurse? The impalas were shy and quickly routed their babies to protected covens. The small impalas had strong legs, however, and were able to run in time with their guardians. The impalas have a lovely grace and are a beautiful combination of white underbelly, wide tan stripe above the white and a chestnut brown top. The colors reminded me of Scotchmallow fondants at Sees Candies in the US. We were the only hikers in the preserve and chatted with the game warden on the hike down the hill. He was interested in getting the track repaired so more people could drive through the lovely preserve. I retorted that the game and atmosphere would drastically change if more vehicles braved the steep road. However, it was a shame that more people did not take advantage of the beautiful sights just a short walk from town. .
We felt restored after seeing the game and listening to the beautiful bird calls. Back at the B and B we wondered what to do for dinner and headed across the street to Dee’s, Vryheid’s finest restaurant. Dees’ is a classic South African restaurant with grilled meats and baby chicken, fish, crayfish ,and prawns and of course Greek salad which is on every restaurant in this country. (Someone must have wondered what to do with all the goats’ milk in SA, “Hey, why not make feta and popularize Greek salad). Garlic snails, mushrooms and side sauces like spicy peri-peri and monkey gland are universal on all menus. Meats include steaks, lamb chops, Rump and of course Ladies Rump at a discount. Dees has an elegant dining room and features upscale delights like steak stuffed with mussels or prawns with entrees being less than $10, sweet for Peace Corps budgets. I have made it a note to try Monkey Gland before returning home if only to find out its true source.
This night was a special annual event at Dee’s. Two rock bands had been hired to play 60’s, 70’s and 80’s goodies outside on their patio overlooking a beautiful garden with old growth trees, flowers and fountains. We asked to sit outside to listen to the bands and the waitress cautioned that the bands might be too loud for us. We told her not to worry and spent a lovely summer night listening to Our Music and finally feeling that we knew the culture and what was going on. This is what we have missed-the element of being in a crowd for pleasure, enjoyment and fun and not having to guess what is proper behavior. We were able to relax and just be another music lover rather than the object of curiosity or an outsider. The pleasure was great and diminished the power frustrations. The evocative music lasted into the next day as we headed back to the Hospital with the sounds of the Beatles and Sweet Alabama ringing in our ears.
So what does “Load Shedding” mean for Peace Corps volunteers at a rural site where the power supply is inconsistent anyway? The summer thunderstorms cause numerous outages and one is advised to cook early in the day as electricity provides the only means of heating food on that handy-dandy hot plate. Two weeks ago the power went off suddenly in the morning and did not return until the next day. The day was not stormy so there appeared to be no explanation for the outage. The next day the outage lasted most of the day and finally came back on at 630pm in time to cook dinner. A radio report announced the bad news- the whole country was blacked out for several hours a day. There was no excess capacity and the utility company required each municipality to decide who and when to cut each day. By the fourth or fifth day everyone was getting cranky about the power as there was no pattern to the shut offs. After one week the shut downs took on a pattern with 3 hours out in the morning and two hours from 4 to 6pm. Moods improved when people learned how to plan. However, business losses were huge and traffic came to a standstill as the robots (traffic lights) in the cities did not work not to mention the electrical security fences that guard most of JoBurg. Most retail stores tried to stay open but there were few customers that ventured into town to shop. The tram heading up Table Mountain was stuck part way up. This week the platinum and gold mines had to close, causing the prices to rise and the stock market here to take a nosedive.
The Bonds were prepared for the power outages with their flashlights, headlamps, and candles. Our one room flat was lit up like a scene from a romantic movie. However after the third night of eating cold food and hauling out the old wine bottles used as candle holders the scene grew tiresome. The outages were taking their toll on our food supply with pungent smells coming from the frig. Fortunately after a week the power came on promptly at 630pm in time to cook dinner. At first we joked that the poor in the rural areas were required to sacrifice their sole means of cooking so that the rich in Durban could run their air conditioners during a heat wave but the problem is more complex than a brownout from excessive demand.
Last weekend we muddled whether to take the taxi to town or stay on the mountain, not knowing whether there was power in town. We needed groceries and a change of scenery after being at Mountain High for two weeks. We caught Mr. Zulu’s taxi and checked into our b and b. The young girl at the desk said we had our choice of rooms as the lodge and town were empty. We took a back room away from the road which was a mistake as it faces the rear of a slaughter house which had one of the few generators in town. Promptly at 10am and 4pm, as soon as the power went down, the noisy generator cranked up.
So what to do this weekend when TV and computers were idle? We hiked up the Vryheid Hill to spot game. Not only did we see eland, zebras, bushbuck, and impala, but their n flourishing new born young out learning the ropes. Ever see a baby zebra nurse? The impalas were shy and quickly routed their babies to protected covens. The small impalas had strong legs, however, and were able to run in time with their guardians. The impalas have a lovely grace and are a beautiful combination of white underbelly, wide tan stripe above the white and a chestnut brown top. The colors reminded me of Scotchmallow fondants at Sees Candies in the US. We were the only hikers in the preserve and chatted with the game warden on the hike down the hill. He was interested in getting the track repaired so more people could drive through the lovely preserve. I retorted that the game and atmosphere would drastically change if more vehicles braved the steep road. However, it was a shame that more people did not take advantage of the beautiful sights just a short walk from town. .
We felt restored after seeing the game and listening to the beautiful bird calls. Back at the B and B we wondered what to do for dinner and headed across the street to Dee’s, Vryheid’s finest restaurant. Dees’ is a classic South African restaurant with grilled meats and baby chicken, fish, crayfish ,and prawns and of course Greek salad which is on every restaurant in this country. (Someone must have wondered what to do with all the goats’ milk in SA, “Hey, why not make feta and popularize Greek salad). Garlic snails, mushrooms and side sauces like spicy peri-peri and monkey gland are universal on all menus. Meats include steaks, lamb chops, Rump and of course Ladies Rump at a discount. Dees has an elegant dining room and features upscale delights like steak stuffed with mussels or prawns with entrees being less than $10, sweet for Peace Corps budgets. I have made it a note to try Monkey Gland before returning home if only to find out its true source.
This night was a special annual event at Dee’s. Two rock bands had been hired to play 60’s, 70’s and 80’s goodies outside on their patio overlooking a beautiful garden with old growth trees, flowers and fountains. We asked to sit outside to listen to the bands and the waitress cautioned that the bands might be too loud for us. We told her not to worry and spent a lovely summer night listening to Our Music and finally feeling that we knew the culture and what was going on. This is what we have missed-the element of being in a crowd for pleasure, enjoyment and fun and not having to guess what is proper behavior. We were able to relax and just be another music lover rather than the object of curiosity or an outsider. The pleasure was great and diminished the power frustrations. The evocative music lasted into the next day as we headed back to the Hospital with the sounds of the Beatles and Sweet Alabama ringing in our ears.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Searching for Grub-Round 2
Last week the Bond’s left you wondering whether they had chicken heads or eggs in their Bobotie. Fortunately the locals took pity on the silly Americans and understood what the poor soles were trying to communicate. The bobotie was a big success and a treat to eat. The next day (last Saturday 13 Jan) we attempted to hike to the site of commerce in our very rural small community, and purchase eggs and a tube of toothpaste.
Our mountain home consists of the AIDs/TB hospital high on a ridge overlooking a rural valley with small kraals (ranches). The mountain is also home to a deserted tea plantation, timber mill, Catholic shrine, indigenous nature preserve, and liquor store/tuck shop. We decided to take a short cut to get to the store, rather than traveling 4km down the dirt road to the tar road and hiking up and down the busy highway 3 km to the store.
So what’s it like to take the shortcut cross town to the store? Our coworkers had advised us that there was a great shortcut to the local tuck shop and to head to the right past the neighbor’s farm. So with that extensive guide map, we headed out the dirt road, over the bare rock section, past the high plain for grazing to the intersection with our neighbor’s farm. (The neighbor has a lumber trucking business and cattle enterprise and has been friendly when he passes us hiking down the track.) We walked down his long drive to his home where 3 dogs started barking and protecting their master’s estate. We hurried past the gate where the 3 dogs were ready to lunge and waved hello to the workers who came out to see the commotion. Thoughts of being accosted or arrested jumped through our minds but the adventure beckoned. Just past the gate we ran into mud on the track and several abandoned buildings. There were large vines and luscious overhanging flowers. This certainly was the tropical side of Mountain High. The track twisted around the neighbor’s estate until we reached a T. The left track went up the hillside away from what we thought was the direction of the small store. The right track headed into a dense forest of beautiful yellowing deciduous trees and ferns. The track grew smaller into a narrow path. Ahead I saw something in the path- a beautiful grey duiker and then another duiker headed the other direction. A lover’s spat? We headed down the slope on a narrow grassy footpath and were rewarded by a view of the water source for all of our mountain population-two lovely pristine lakes surrounded by virgin indigenous forest. The footpath crossed the isthmus between the small lakes.
Water is as scarce as transport here so the sight of these beautiful lakes was a treat for the eyes and soul. Many years ago, the NGO we work for sold grazing land to the neighbor in order to obtain access to the clean water in front of our view.
After crossing the small lakes we headed up the hillside, losing the obscure trail. After a short ways we came to a small pond where cattle were grazing. At the top of the hill above the pond a tin roofed farmhouse and kraal came into view. As we walked past the pond, a water monitor three feet long raged across the path into the pond. Of course, we jumped back and thought that crocodiles were part of this ecosystem. But a water monitor was pretty exciting to Southern California folks who get excited about geckos. We hiked past the pond and cows and headed towards the farmhouse. By this time we were completely lost with no indication of where the small settlement was located or the roads. We looked back at the pond and saw three makotis (matrons) following in our footsteps. We stopped to wait for them to catch up so that we could ask for directions. In my best Zulu I asked them where the tuck shop was located for the timber mill, and the women burst out laughing. They pointed to the farm house and said Lapha (There). We followed them through the kissing gates and up the small trail to the small store, which did have toothpaste and eggs. Success!
The small store was fixed in a former time with two styles of shoes, bags of mealies, watchbands, school supplies, cans of deviled meat, sewing notions, soap, eggs, tomatoes, onions and ice cold sodas. We asked the proprietor about the lizard and he laughed when we mentioned crocodile. No, he said in his best English, the lizards are varan.
So at last we had come to Mountain High central trading and were able to purchase needed items. I believe that getting there was at least half the fun!
Our mountain home consists of the AIDs/TB hospital high on a ridge overlooking a rural valley with small kraals (ranches). The mountain is also home to a deserted tea plantation, timber mill, Catholic shrine, indigenous nature preserve, and liquor store/tuck shop. We decided to take a short cut to get to the store, rather than traveling 4km down the dirt road to the tar road and hiking up and down the busy highway 3 km to the store.
So what’s it like to take the shortcut cross town to the store? Our coworkers had advised us that there was a great shortcut to the local tuck shop and to head to the right past the neighbor’s farm. So with that extensive guide map, we headed out the dirt road, over the bare rock section, past the high plain for grazing to the intersection with our neighbor’s farm. (The neighbor has a lumber trucking business and cattle enterprise and has been friendly when he passes us hiking down the track.) We walked down his long drive to his home where 3 dogs started barking and protecting their master’s estate. We hurried past the gate where the 3 dogs were ready to lunge and waved hello to the workers who came out to see the commotion. Thoughts of being accosted or arrested jumped through our minds but the adventure beckoned. Just past the gate we ran into mud on the track and several abandoned buildings. There were large vines and luscious overhanging flowers. This certainly was the tropical side of Mountain High. The track twisted around the neighbor’s estate until we reached a T. The left track went up the hillside away from what we thought was the direction of the small store. The right track headed into a dense forest of beautiful yellowing deciduous trees and ferns. The track grew smaller into a narrow path. Ahead I saw something in the path- a beautiful grey duiker and then another duiker headed the other direction. A lover’s spat? We headed down the slope on a narrow grassy footpath and were rewarded by a view of the water source for all of our mountain population-two lovely pristine lakes surrounded by virgin indigenous forest. The footpath crossed the isthmus between the small lakes.
Water is as scarce as transport here so the sight of these beautiful lakes was a treat for the eyes and soul. Many years ago, the NGO we work for sold grazing land to the neighbor in order to obtain access to the clean water in front of our view.
After crossing the small lakes we headed up the hillside, losing the obscure trail. After a short ways we came to a small pond where cattle were grazing. At the top of the hill above the pond a tin roofed farmhouse and kraal came into view. As we walked past the pond, a water monitor three feet long raged across the path into the pond. Of course, we jumped back and thought that crocodiles were part of this ecosystem. But a water monitor was pretty exciting to Southern California folks who get excited about geckos. We hiked past the pond and cows and headed towards the farmhouse. By this time we were completely lost with no indication of where the small settlement was located or the roads. We looked back at the pond and saw three makotis (matrons) following in our footsteps. We stopped to wait for them to catch up so that we could ask for directions. In my best Zulu I asked them where the tuck shop was located for the timber mill, and the women burst out laughing. They pointed to the farm house and said Lapha (There). We followed them through the kissing gates and up the small trail to the small store, which did have toothpaste and eggs. Success!
The small store was fixed in a former time with two styles of shoes, bags of mealies, watchbands, school supplies, cans of deviled meat, sewing notions, soap, eggs, tomatoes, onions and ice cold sodas. We asked the proprietor about the lizard and he laughed when we mentioned crocodile. No, he said in his best English, the lizards are varan.
So at last we had come to Mountain High central trading and were able to purchase needed items. I believe that getting there was at least half the fun!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Eggheads Anyone?-Peace Corps Grub
Common wisdom holds that cuisine is the easiest introduction to another culture. If the food from another country tastes good, what’s not to like about that ethnic group or nationality? After 19 months of working as Peace Corps Volunteers in South Africa, the Bond’s have learned about the tastes of this host country and enjoyed the bounty of this fertile land. Although water is a scarce resource, the native forests and farms yield multitude varieties of mushrooms, mangoes, shallots, litchis, guavas, papayas, sweet succulent squash, aromatic carrots, flavorful firm tomatoes and luscious avocadoes. The free-range chickens are plump and juicy with intense flavor and very little fat. The lamb is gamey and delicious. The pork is tasty and cured without nitrates so has a mild smoky taste. The varieties of sausage are endless and harkens back to the voortrekkers and their fabulous home recipes for wors. Braai (barbeque) is the unifying food among the many cultural and language groups in South Africa with everyone loving beef and a national holiday called “Braai Day.”
Ironically, food causes the most tension among Peace Corps volunteers and their host families. Most volunteers spend their two years living with a family (as we did our first two months of training) and eat with the family. Thus their diet may not have the variety of food as in the United States or the familiarity. Food habits are among the hardest to change. The Zulu’s diet in our area consists of mealy meal (pap) porridge, sauce for the porridge, vegetable- squash, chard, or beet root and rice for special dinners. Zulus love meat but cannot afford to eat it every day. All parts of the beef or chicken are eaten with a brand name of “Walkie Talkie” chicken (heads and feet.) The Zulus are careful cooks and take time to make the food tasty with sauce mixes. They do not like spicy foods. Thus comes the rub when a volunteer arrives as a guest and cannot eat his/her familiar foods because they are not available and the family cannot afford the American style ingredients. Volunteers are encouraged to purchase foods for the family and do their share of cooking but many volunteers come to Africa without the knowledge or experience to prepare their favorite foods. (Hint for Peace Corps applicants-Bring your favorite recipes with you and learn to cook before you get here-NO McDonald’s on every corner). Another problem is that food purchased by the volunteer becomes the property of the entire family-Ubuntu or community. So misunderstandings occur. (I remember a low point in training, everyone is calorie deprived at this time, when I had selected 5 perfect apples from the market to share with the family and they all disappeared within a few minutes with none for the hungry Bond’s). When we arrived at Mountain High, we decided to cook all of our meals in our one room flat off the business office and have enjoyed having a family life and seeing what can be created on a hot plate and occasional access to an oven.
Food is precious because it is so hard to obtain or grow here at Mountain High. Simple purchase of groceries requires a 2 hour taxi ride to town, a 1 km hike across town to the supermarket, purchase of the groceries and packing them in backpacks or large plastic tote bags, 1 km hike back across town to the taxi, a 2 hour taxi ride back to our mountain site and sometimes a 4 km hike from the tar road to the Hospital. Thus each item is carefully selected for size, durability and consistency with the meal plan for the week. No bags of chips on impulse or large roasts!
After many days in hotels over Christmas and recovery from wisdom tooth misery, Brendon decided to cook a celebratory South African dish on Friday night, “Bobotie”. This dish has Malay origins in Cape Town and is a fabulous concoction of beef or lamb, spices, fruits, nuts, chutney with a cream/egg topping. Originally it was cooked over an open fire in a special brown ceramic pot. Maybe the world’s best meat loaf or savory fruit cake! We found all of the ingredients and prepared the meat mixture. Trouble Hit! No eggs for the topping. It’s a long ways to run to the supermarket so I made a break for the Mountain High tuck shop. Every community in South Africa has a tuck shop, which is a very small convenience store, sometimes the back end of someone’s home. Alas although the shop sells shoe polish (good looking shoes and clothing are essential in South Africa), no eggs were to be found. A run to the Hospital kitchen and a plea for “Amakhanda” only drove the kitchen cooks into hysterics as I forgot the Click required to say eggs and instead asked them for chicken heads. They finally brought out 4 precious eggs and we were able to enjoy the Bobotie. This dish is a visual delight as the bay leaves stand tall in the custard looking like sails on the ship of good taste. Our first taste of Bobotie was in Darling where the satirist Evita de Perone had a topping that was thick and tasted of Mascarpone and Cream Fraiche. Alas his recipe not to be found.
INGREDIENTS:
2 medium sized onions, chopped
10 ml vegetable oil
40 ml butter
600 g ground beef or ground lamb
2 thick slices of stale white bread
125 g sultana raisins
60 ml flaked almonds
40 ml chutney
2 garlic cloves, crushed
10 ml masala (curry powder)
½ tsp turmeric
½ tsp minced ginger
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp ground coriander
pinch of cinnamon
pinch of nutmeg
3 cloves
salt to taste
ground black pepper
10 bay leaves
Egg custard:
3 eggs
150 ml milk
METHOD:
Preheat the oven to 200°C. Fry the onions in vegetable oil and butter over medium heat until they begin to brown. Add the beef and brown for a few minutes. Place the beef in a colander and soak the bread in the juice that drains from it.
In a mixing bowl, combine the beef and all the rest of the ingredients except the bay leaves. Press the bobotie mixture into a deep oven-proof dish. Spike the bay leaves into the mince.
Beat together the eggs and milk and pour over the top of the mince. Bake at 200°C for 30 minutes until the custard has browned.
Serve the bobotie with geel rys (white rice cooked with turmeric, raisins and cloves), chutney, chopped tomato and onion, sliced banana and desiccated coconut. Serves 6 - 8 people.
Ironically, food causes the most tension among Peace Corps volunteers and their host families. Most volunteers spend their two years living with a family (as we did our first two months of training) and eat with the family. Thus their diet may not have the variety of food as in the United States or the familiarity. Food habits are among the hardest to change. The Zulu’s diet in our area consists of mealy meal (pap) porridge, sauce for the porridge, vegetable- squash, chard, or beet root and rice for special dinners. Zulus love meat but cannot afford to eat it every day. All parts of the beef or chicken are eaten with a brand name of “Walkie Talkie” chicken (heads and feet.) The Zulus are careful cooks and take time to make the food tasty with sauce mixes. They do not like spicy foods. Thus comes the rub when a volunteer arrives as a guest and cannot eat his/her familiar foods because they are not available and the family cannot afford the American style ingredients. Volunteers are encouraged to purchase foods for the family and do their share of cooking but many volunteers come to Africa without the knowledge or experience to prepare their favorite foods. (Hint for Peace Corps applicants-Bring your favorite recipes with you and learn to cook before you get here-NO McDonald’s on every corner). Another problem is that food purchased by the volunteer becomes the property of the entire family-Ubuntu or community. So misunderstandings occur. (I remember a low point in training, everyone is calorie deprived at this time, when I had selected 5 perfect apples from the market to share with the family and they all disappeared within a few minutes with none for the hungry Bond’s). When we arrived at Mountain High, we decided to cook all of our meals in our one room flat off the business office and have enjoyed having a family life and seeing what can be created on a hot plate and occasional access to an oven.
Food is precious because it is so hard to obtain or grow here at Mountain High. Simple purchase of groceries requires a 2 hour taxi ride to town, a 1 km hike across town to the supermarket, purchase of the groceries and packing them in backpacks or large plastic tote bags, 1 km hike back across town to the taxi, a 2 hour taxi ride back to our mountain site and sometimes a 4 km hike from the tar road to the Hospital. Thus each item is carefully selected for size, durability and consistency with the meal plan for the week. No bags of chips on impulse or large roasts!
After many days in hotels over Christmas and recovery from wisdom tooth misery, Brendon decided to cook a celebratory South African dish on Friday night, “Bobotie”. This dish has Malay origins in Cape Town and is a fabulous concoction of beef or lamb, spices, fruits, nuts, chutney with a cream/egg topping. Originally it was cooked over an open fire in a special brown ceramic pot. Maybe the world’s best meat loaf or savory fruit cake! We found all of the ingredients and prepared the meat mixture. Trouble Hit! No eggs for the topping. It’s a long ways to run to the supermarket so I made a break for the Mountain High tuck shop. Every community in South Africa has a tuck shop, which is a very small convenience store, sometimes the back end of someone’s home. Alas although the shop sells shoe polish (good looking shoes and clothing are essential in South Africa), no eggs were to be found. A run to the Hospital kitchen and a plea for “Amakhanda” only drove the kitchen cooks into hysterics as I forgot the Click required to say eggs and instead asked them for chicken heads. They finally brought out 4 precious eggs and we were able to enjoy the Bobotie. This dish is a visual delight as the bay leaves stand tall in the custard looking like sails on the ship of good taste. Our first taste of Bobotie was in Darling where the satirist Evita de Perone had a topping that was thick and tasted of Mascarpone and Cream Fraiche. Alas his recipe not to be found.
INGREDIENTS:
2 medium sized onions, chopped
10 ml vegetable oil
40 ml butter
600 g ground beef or ground lamb
2 thick slices of stale white bread
125 g sultana raisins
60 ml flaked almonds
40 ml chutney
2 garlic cloves, crushed
10 ml masala (curry powder)
½ tsp turmeric
½ tsp minced ginger
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp ground coriander
pinch of cinnamon
pinch of nutmeg
3 cloves
salt to taste
ground black pepper
10 bay leaves
Egg custard:
3 eggs
150 ml milk
METHOD:
Preheat the oven to 200°C. Fry the onions in vegetable oil and butter over medium heat until they begin to brown. Add the beef and brown for a few minutes. Place the beef in a colander and soak the bread in the juice that drains from it.
In a mixing bowl, combine the beef and all the rest of the ingredients except the bay leaves. Press the bobotie mixture into a deep oven-proof dish. Spike the bay leaves into the mince.
Beat together the eggs and milk and pour over the top of the mince. Bake at 200°C for 30 minutes until the custard has browned.
Serve the bobotie with geel rys (white rice cooked with turmeric, raisins and cloves), chutney, chopped tomato and onion, sliced banana and desiccated coconut. Serves 6 - 8 people.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Clarens Views
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