To internet or not to internet

Before we even could post the ‘Hardships’ underneath, we experienced once again the worst hardship of all for us spoiled Western Europeans: not having almost permanent internet access. No internet access at home, nor at the village. Nor at the about 5 villages in between Gabs and us. (It took us about a few weeks to learn that what we thought is Mochudi actually is three villages stuck to each other.)
After some trial & error we found a nice spot in the Old Mall (the mall Maud remembers from 1989, and Bram even from 1978) in Gaborone, an internet joint where we even can blog small pictures. But than – Monday Gabs-day, but no time for the Old Mall. Wednesday again Gabs-day. We saw Hamish once again in his African Development Fund Headquarters (www.adf.org), went out for lunch together in the mall, than went to the internet spot to blog and read our mail, but the servers had a serious attack of downtime.
It’s strange, until a couple of years ago we never used the internet to have contact. The year before last we had internet access as a Big Novelty, but only the first and last couple of days in Potchefstroom. And now suddenly we got quite dependent on it, also because people reckon they can use it to make contact and appointments.
It’s like a parallel to how incredibly fast Botswana is changing. In 2002 we got totally confused in Mahalapye, driving to Serowe, because the single lane tar road full of potholes made place for a double with lots of robots and roundabouts. We couldn’t even reach Kate’s Kitchen (fabulous chips, and chicken for Bram, not to be confused with chicks).
By now we are used to tar, robots, roundabouts and streetlights appearing in the most unexpected places. We also got used to all the female drivers, in their almost dead bakkie or Toyota, or in their Prado, Mercedes or Lexus, but there’s a lot more changing. Some years ago aids wasn’t something you could talk about, than government started its fabulous campaigns (also thanks to Gates’ money). Last year free condoms were added to the standard motel bathroom equipment, and for a lot of people it isn’t a forbidden subject anymore.
It’s like almost everyone has a mobile phone, than again we’re surprised about the vast areas where you don’t have connection. The ministries moved to posh new buildings. There’s building in process everywhere, and Gabs spreads like an anthill, not with shantytowns but with huge, luxurious houses. In many villages you hardly see traditional houses anymore.
Bram was very happy when he noticed this week that even Choppies (supermarket) has a big display of sweet bakery stuff. Huge malls with luxurious shops and restaurants sprout like mushrooms. Together with the fancy malls we saw the first beggars coming in. This year the big novelty is schools aren’t free anymore, and paying school fees, next to the uniforms and books, is a big problem for people. But than again hiv is costing government a lot, the treatment for the positives alone costs a fortune.
Not only the Netherlands has withdrawn all it’s development aid, a lot of other countries also. So another noticeable difference is that there’re fewer expats. Another source of expats, teachers (there used to be a lot of Cubans for instance), also have been localized, which has unfortunately made the standard of government schools very poor. A reason for the rise in expensive private schools, thus creating an even bigger gap between the have’s and the have not’s.
Finally: the yards. The traditional Batswana plot was barren, except for one Acacia Camel thorn, to provide some shade. The explanation was: it’s because of the snakes. In the eighties almost desperate expats were doing gardening projects, trying to convince people they should have some fruit trees and vegetables. Now a lot of yards have not only fruit trees and vegetables, but also beautiful flowering trees, shrubs, and exquisite flower borders. Bram already helped Francina digging out plants to swap with her friends.

Hardships

It’s time to tell you all some of our hardships, so you won’t think this is Endless Fun Paradise.
First there are the insects, especially when sunset is near (and the whole night). Luckily this isn’t a malaria-area, but still the mosquito’s sing & sting, so you have to fight them with covering yourself (and be incredibly sweaty), Doom mosquito coils (Maud is about the only one in Botswana who doesn’t mind the smell) and Peaceful Sleep spray. A zillion other big and small flying and creeping creatures come alive as soon as the sun sets, supposed to be harmless, but very annoying. The ants are everywhere every time, so it’s heaven our yard doesn’t have red or soldier ants. Insects also mean itching from the stings you get despite all the counterattacks.
Than our bakkie has it’s own way of complaining about a year negligence. By now all the wiring is replaced. What started with a few fuses we had to replace ended with a car full of smoke and quite a few melted down wires. Now the fan belt is wobbly and the water pump is shaky. But when Motushi has seen to that when we’re in Serowe, it’ll be in mint condition again.
One of the worst things is washing Maud’s hair with only a bucket and an outside tap, but we won’t bother you with a detailed report on that ordeal.
We solved the ‘no tele’-problem by buying a couple of dvd’s (4 to 7 films per dvd for less them 6 euro, produced in China and sold at the supermarket, most of them filmed in a cinema, which makes it more realistic, you hear the crackling popcorn bags and all).
Last but not least: how much peanut butter (smooth & crunchy) can one digest? It time for:

bramenmaud’s Big Peanut butter sandwich Contest

First prize: Maud’s groundnut soup
Second prize: Faya Lobby hot peanut butter
Third prized: freshly roasted peanuts

Save us from boredom by giving us your recipes to make the old peanut butter sandwich more interesting.
Click on ‘comment’ (not on the icon beside ‘comment’) to enter this fabulous contest. The judges will decide on March 10 (this should liven up Bram’s birthday :-)

Photo shoot

Photo: Bram & Eric
If you want to see this, or any other, picture bigger, just click on it.

‘It’s a feature’ will be our motto for 2006. Saturday we did a photo shoot for the billboards Bram’s going to design for his friend André, who lived in Serowe with him around 1980. Next to his other business, bo Andre recently started selling luxury kitchen appliances, and this venture has to be marketed.
Looking at the results we’re very proud of the whole team. Seeing the results you would never guess we used the showroom as a studio. André’s son Mata did the lighting, standing on a household ladder with a builder’s lamp. Maud made the list of props and did some styling. André & director sales Keshav assembled the props. The models are a carwash-owner and his girlfriend. And, most important, Keshav’s wife did the photofood preparations. Which tortured us with delicious smells during five hours of shooting, and was excellent, as we discovered during our after party, when we finally were allowed to taste. In fact the only professionals were Bram and bo Eric (also Serowe, around 1980) – a real designer and a real photographer.
During the shoot Keshav kept jumping up and down enthusiastically, shouting ‘picture this, it’s a feature, picture this’. He jumped in joy the same way when telling how deliciously his wife cooks. This guy really is in love with his appliances!

Abraham meets Abraham

INVITATION
Ons nooi als ons vriende en familie vir
Brams 50ste Bdag
Saterdag 11 Maart vanaf 15:00 uur pm
Sunset Bar in Morwa
RSVP via ‘comment’ (we’re just a mouse click away!)

If Bram survives meeting Abraham on March 10th, he’ll have a real birthday party the day after. We’ll just buy a goat and see what happens:-) Actually Pelo knows a man who can do the goat-thing, including killing it and changing the corps into seswaa (soort draadjesvlees). Maud’s so happy she is a vegetarian… Bar-owner Hille is in charge of drinks, paletshe (maispap) and salads. We even ordered a decorated XL chocolate cake. If a lot of you turn up we’ll probably need more goats, so please let us know!

Sunset

View from our bedroom window

Phutadikobo Museum

Looking over Mochudi from the rocks next to the museum

New Design Talent

Francina's granddaughter on our stoep

Consulaat

Op André’s advies zijn we naar het Nederlandse consulaat geweest om ons voor te stellen; the lady who runs it likes to know the Dutchies who stay a bit longer than the usual ‘in and out the Okavango’.
The Dutch consulate is very cozy; a nice, spacious office room in an ordinary house. You just walk in without an appointment, and Mien receives you very warmly, offers you coffee and makes time to chat (heel gezellig). The Dutch community here contains around 150 people, and some partners & kids. For measurements: Botswana itself has approximately the size of France and has around 1.7 million inhabitants, of which about 50 percent is under age.
We’re now put into the consulates computer files, and hard copies of our passports are archived, just in case. It’s a pity we’re not here on Koninginnedag, as we would have certainly attended the party with peri peri haring!

Caterpillar

Eric and Bram enjoy eating this season's first mopane

Church

Sunday service

Landlady

Mme Francina sweeps her yard

Loitering in Morwa

I sit on the stoep with the laptop, drink my coffee and look at the eagle circling high in the sky. We’re a bit late today, 7:00 instead of 6:00, because the heavy rain, lightning and thunder last night kept us awake. The neighborhood kids already left for school, so I miss my ‘good mornings’ and waves. We’ll have a look at the river later this morning, to see if it broke it’s banks again. This is one of the most beautiful things on earth, a usually very, very dry country that suddenly gets a lot of rain. It’s like everything was waiting, covered under dust, to blossom, bloom, and be vividly alive. All this green and flowers. The cows, goats and donkeys are fat.
Yesterday evening we went to Morwa, a small village in between Gabs and Mochudi, to meet friends from a friend. Sitting on the stoep of their house, almost on top of the hill, we had a magnificent view of the sunset above Boka dam, which is full now. We thought we were just going for a drink in the nearby bar, but it was the works in their house – after drinks on their veranda a very nice dinner. We already decided Morwa is number one on our list to escape the next Dutch winter, and Pelo & Jeff will help us look for a place to stay.
Morwa also will be the place for Brams 50th Bday party. The Dutchman’s bar has a big separate veranda where our handful of guests easily fits (unless the guys bring all their girlfriends…). Hille will organize a mussadi to make some bogobe, soup, beef, morogo and salads, so we can have a nice afternoon of loitering, eating and drinking.

Loitering in Kutse

Friday after lunchish we started our weekend-expotition to Kutse, a game park bordering Central Kalahari, together with Hamish and his sons Mpo and Tumi.
Traveling was an adventure in itself. At Mma Mpo’s house, just outside of Gabs, Maud discovered a leak in the fuel tank, which Bram kind of repaired. Than we had to shop for a week in Molopelole; you never know how bad you get stuck. After which we almost got stuck without even reaching Kutse, because of the continuous rain and thunderstorms, while the road changed from bad tar to muddy dirt.
It was pitch-dark when we figured we should be near Kutse, but instead of the gate we found what looked like a deserted workers camp. We decided to go on and praised the Lord when we found a gate. Deserted by this time, so we opened it ourselves – and left Kutse, we discovered, when we later hit the road sign to Gabs. At least we could knowingly enter the park now. We decided to set up our tents in the presumed to be deserted workers camp. It was still raining, but after hot tea and wet peanut butter sandwiches we felt this would be a fun expotition and went to sleep.
Suddenly we heard running engines and people calling us. We were actually camping in a very busy Wildlife camp. Some lions decided to go on their own expotition, to the village nearby Kutse, and all the game wardens were trying to trace them and chase them back into the game park. They allowed us to stay and retry the gate in the morning.
No need to shower that morning; it was still raining. After a wet breakfast and breaking up camp we finally entered Kutse officially. Driving to a campsite was a game drive also. We saw a lot of Gemsbok, and a few Red Hartebeest, Impala, Springbokkies and Duikers, and a lot of amazing birds. As a bonus the desert was full of flowers thanks to the very good rains this year. A blooming desert has a beauty beyond words.
Our campsite looked out over a meadow where ostriches grazed, and miraculously had no soldier ants. The only setback of making a camp in the blazing hot sun was that the tough white men got burned, after which they decided to use Maud’s ‘girliestuff’, also called sun blocker. Luckily we collected dikgong while game driving, so we could make a nice fire to braai Hamish’ boerwors and steaks. Tumi made everyone happy by discovering his love for dishwashing & cleaning; this 6 year old guy was ready to fight for his right to do the dishes, table, cool boxes, tent poles etcetera.
The afternoon game drive was absolutely fabulous. Mainly thanks to Mpo we saw a lot of different antelopes, ostriches and giraffes. And then the Big Event: two lionesses, which Mpo spotted while they were resting in the high grass. All of us except the getaway driver climbed on top of the car, and Bram managed to drive very close by the big cats, which decided to do a kind of fashion show walk around for us.
Dinner, campfire, stars, full moon – everything you need for an abfab evening in your little camp. When Maud woke up in the morning she was in moffies & girls heaven. Imagine waking up at 6:00 in the morning, hearing the rain and muffled voices, creeping out of your tent, and see these absolute studs Bram and Hamish walking around in just tiny underpants and big green rain poncho’s, pottering around with their fire to braai the breakfast boerwors & steaks, and making coffee.
We enjoyed breakfast looking at our ostriches grazing in front of the tents and did a game drive again. By far the strangest animals we met were a bunch of grumpy Afrikaner boers with females and cubs, and of course a lot of Gemsbok and other bokkies. Alas, we didn’t manage to get stuck, as Mpo & Maud planned, so we had to drive back to Gabs after lunch.
Next goal: the slippery, slimy banks of Limpopo river.

Kristien, Marten: mail gelezen

Hoi Kristien en hoi Marten,
Heb jullie mails gelezen, bedankt, geweldig om mails te krijgen!!! Kan alleen steeds nog niet terugmailen, ik antwoord wel via de slakkenpost.
tsala sentle,
Maud

Kerekeng

Ons goeie goed hangt te drogen en onze opgezette enkels beginnen te slinken. Almost five hours of sitting, and mainly standing, in church during the hottest time of the day takes its toll. We joined our landlady to the Sunday service of Saint Paul (denomination: ‘it’s from South-Africa’), and got the works.
We already gathered it would be a big occasion when Saturday evening the church’s brass band was practicing for hours within earshot, and Francine told us it would be a special service for us. Later on some of the band members had some food in our yard to get strength for their Saturday night out. In church we noticed Saturday night also takes its toll.
Sunday morning we put on our best, freshly ironed clothes, Bram tied a tie around his neck, Maud tried to keep a hat balanced on her head, and we managed to haul Francine in our bakkie.
In the churchyard we first sat under a tree with some of the big shots, while the others got the church in shape. Than we made our big entrance, and Bram, being seated with the bontate behind the reverent, realized that disappearing after an hour was not an option. Also not for Maud, who sat in front with the bomme.
After some songs the reverent made his first speech, welcoming rra and mme Abraham (luckily he ordered a lady to stand next to him and translate), and mme Francine Metswe. Than there was a long service, almost five hours, with lots of singing, a few bible readings, two short sermons (again translated), and a lot of brass band, marching around or just standing.
After an hour Francine asked me if I wanted to go to the toilet. When I said no, she whispered: “but they have a flush toilet here, very nice.” Which reminded me of last year in Moremi. We were camping in a nice spot without other people around, and with no other facilities than a tap. After a few days, during one of our game drives, we met another car. Custom is you stop and exchange information. When the driver, an urologist form Cape Town, heard we might go to the campsite where he was staying, he said with one of the happiest smiles I’ve ever seen: “They have flush toilets there, so nice.” He failed to mention the hippos, but that’s another story.
Back to our kerekeng. Although (or because) we didn’t understand a word of all the Setswana songs, the power of the singing was overwhelming. A pleasant surprise for us was the ANC-song, the only one we both recognized.
Bram was a bit overwhelmed by the two ladies who started to spin around and speak in tongues, but he managed to hide himself behind his camera. Maud did what she saw the other bomme do when they got into the danger zone - grab a toddler and bring it (and yourself) in the safety zone.
The last hour was dedicated to the collection. Francine firmly held Bram and Maud beside her and directed us through the whole procedure, protecting us from breaking protocol or overspending. The service closed with a monumental handshake. Young to old, bomma and borra to bomme and bontate, everyone shakes everyone’s hand in a certain order. After which the tuck shop next to the church opened and everyone rushed out to get some lekkerkies.

Housekeeping

You’ll all be flabbergasted if you could see what perfect housekeepers we became. Because every crump tends to evolve in an ant- or other creeping creatures party within seconds, we clean up after even the smallest cookie. We don’t want our landlords to think we’re like those filthy Lekgoa, so the hut has to be swept or mobbed at least once a day, and there’s always washing to be done. And than ironing, loads of ironing, thanks to our new ‘tropics and health’-book.
Until last year we survived on the ‘SAS Survival Guide’, which is perfect for the bush. When Bram tried to poison himself in Moremi (the middle of nowhere) by trying a piece of bush fruit after the baboons stole all our fresh food, SAS saved him. But this year we would try less bush, more village, hence a new book. Now we know why everyone is feverishly ironing everything – socks, bra’s, towels, everything. There’s this fly which lays its eggs in the sand, or in your wet, drying laundry. If you get an egg on your skin, the larva will get under your skin, develop until it’s a few centimeters, and creep out. Presumed to be innocent, but gross! Ironing will kill eggs & larvae.
Not that living here is unhealthy, it’s just different. Our eternal colds totally evaporated, together with the winter depressions, and we prefer ‘prickly heat’ to winter skin rashes.
Luckily we’re freed from outside sweeping; a boy comes in to sweep the yard, after which the red earth looks like a delicate carpet. The sweeping patterns have names, like boloko (cow dung). Boloko is inspired on the patterns Batswana make on the walls of the traditional huts. Plaster with cow dung allows for intricate designs; flowing shapes the size of the arm reach, and patterns based on finger painting. After the sweeping our landlord puts coke bottles filled with water on the ground. Amazing fact: the dogs have learned not to shit anywhere near the bottles.

In Mochudi

Village life definitely has a different pace than city life. At night we sit on the stoep in the dark, enjoying the Milky Way (Bram doesn’t even miss watching African-cup soccer), and the village-sounds and -fragrances. Even watching dvd’s on the computer isn’t that attractive anymore. During the day we feel terribly busy with getting to know the village, going to Gabs, meeting people, and making plans.
We’ve been here a week now and found our own village p(e)ace. We wake up at 6.00, have a cup of coffee, create our own Virgin Active, and go to town or, preferably, potter about in and around the hut. If we weren’t the only whites around we would blend in nicely. Bram looks very sexy in his cloth; thanks Anel & Louis!
We’ve met about all the important people by now: the next of kin of our landlords, Francine’s Preacher and his wife (we invited ourselves to church next Sunday), and the local police force. No less than four officers strolled in this morning because they needed our landlord as a witness, and decided to sit on our porch and check us out while Rra Mpho was putting on street clothes.
A donkey cart passes, people come to meet & greet, the neighbor’s son asks if we’re bored and want a game of Monopoly, and from Friday afternoon till Sunday night you hear the sounds of payday partying, funerals, weddings and church services.
Sorry, no pictures (yet); if we try to upload them in our Korean internet cafÈ, the computer gets stuck.
Leestip - Etienne van Heerden: Casspirs en Campari’s.