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.