Farewell

Who’s Who – July 1979, February 2008

For our last evening with Peter and Annette, we were invited to a braai at Poal & Miriam Norkjaer’s house. Poal came to Botswana over 30 years ago, and also worked in Serowe when Peter, Andre, Bram, Miriam and Tears were there.
It was partly a Serowe old-timers get-together, with the four boys and Tears and Miriam, and partly a Danish do, with another Viking from Maun and his wife. Although Poal and Flemming are by now Botswana citizens, they can still kill their beers like real Scandinavians, and make a merry party.


We’ll throw in a description of a typical southern African weekend-do, so you Europeans know what we like:-)
The guests are expected three-ish, carrying their own cooler-boxes stuffed with drinks. The food will be served anywhere between four and midnight, depending on the quality of the firewood, the weather, and other known and unknown factors. Poal and Miriam have four of their five daughters still living in the house, so the usual collection of salads & pap was extra elaborate and delicious.


The rest is simple; you sit in the shade, chat, sip your drink, dish, dish again, chat, sip your drink, decide to go home, stay a bit longer, and etcetera.

the Vikings have landed

Sunday Peter & Annette arrived, after spending their first days in Africa in Paul’s Cape Town dwelling. Travelling from Kaapstad to Johannesburg by plane, and than from Joburg to Gaborone by bus, you cover quite a distance, not only in k’s but also in atmosphere. As liberal as Kaapstad was during the Apartheid Struggle, it seems to have come to a standstill, or is even sliding backwards, now.


So now the Vikings are in Morwa, Botswana, and we do some sightseeing together. Monday we had Andre over for lunch; just like Peter and Bram he also worked in Serowe 30 years ago. Today we’ll ‘do’ Gabs, and test if Peter recognizes anything after all this time. Tomorrow we travel further down memory lane: to Serowe.

Wanted

The last weekend-lunch was already a week ago, and it seems ages since we had a braai, so this Saturday it’s BBQ-time at Jeff’s place, across the road. To work up an appetite we first got our target practise initiation. This is a real challenge for Jeff: teach Maud and his daughter Yvonne to actually hit something, so Yvonne is able to chase snakes and Maud can succeed in just missing the baboons, to scare the shit out of them.
Since the baboons ransacked our watermelon-field, it’s war. Bram was ever so happy Maud finally also wanted a pallet-gun, and took the first opportunity to go gun shopping with Jeff. At ‘Explosion’ he got a real Sniper, and next to his Weihrauch Jeff bought a beautiful Winchester.


We decided to combine two projects, and practise on the zillion corncrickets in our yard, cause they have to be exterminated anyway. (Hardly any kouseband left for us, now that the crickets decided it’s nice food.)
It’s a pity corncrickets are not edible – there’re lots of dead ones in the yard now. It really gives you an appetite, loading, aiming, shooting, reloading, and etcetera – and catching targets in the guava-tree and the bean-field.


After all that exercise the braai is most welcome – steak, boerwors, maize pap, and a vegetarian feast, yummy! Adding to the flavour are the beautiful surroundings: we elderly people are supposed to find a place as far away as possible from the youngsters, so we conquered the upper deck with the marvellous view, while Yvonne and her friends have to make do with the lower decks.

Vikings in Botswana

Next Sunday our Danish friends Peter & Annette arrive. Bram and Peter met when they were both working in Serowe. Peter left Botswana 29 years ago and has never been back, so this holiday will be an exiting trip down memory-lane.
We just met another guy who was also teaching in Serowe way back when. It took Gerrit and Bram a while to realize they knew each other. Seeing the old picture Gerrit's Peruvian wife carries around you understand - without the long, wavy locks and impressive beards recognition is very hard... (The hairy guy underneath is Bram). Just like Bram, and many other guys, Gerrit left Botswana, worked elsewhere in the world, and came back.


We'll join P&A on a little tour. First stop: Serowe & Khama Rhino Sanctuary. For us it's partly work, because the rhino's need more pr-materials, and a design for their trade-fair booth in Durban. Second destination: Maun or Kasane, in both cases route & campsites pending on road-conditions.
If we go to Maun, we'll hang out with Piet and Klaas, and have our Africa-car (the old Hilux) serviced, while P&A may fly into the Okavango-delta. After the Hilux is patched up, we can go into Moremi or Chobe, but only if the weather stays nice and dry, because we don't feel like being stuck in sticky mud again.
Right now we're also pitching for some work for a lodge in the Chobe, Vic Falls, Kasane area, but it's too far to combine with the Okavango.
Our route back to Morwa will be determined by the weather again; if it has been raining, we'll visit the beautiful 'deep sand' sites. Drought means the gorgeous muddy places are a good choice.
We'll be surfing the worldwide web again around February 24.

Botswana Features

Saturday and Sunday we attended 'the changing of the clothes' of Hille's widow Marrow. A Motswana widow wears black clothes for a year, and a mekgoa widow doesn't, so for Hille they choose half of the Batswana, half of the lekgoa custom: half a year of black.


Saturday, the day for all the important things in life, Marrow does the first part of the changing. Early in the morning she goes to her parents yard to burn the black clothes, shave her head, and kill a goat.


Meanwhile the youngsters prepare a traditional lunch in her own yard. Elderly guests like us just sit, chat, drink the strong, sweet tea and eat the special bread, papata, baked in the big black cooking pots, while waiting for Marrow to return.


The sharing of the belongings finishes the traditional mourning period. Sunday early in the morning, mmapakela (before the sun is hot), the children of the deceased divide his personal possessions, supervised by some elder family-members and neighbours.

Sunday Loitering

Last Sunday we had some people over for 'lunch'. A proper Botswana weekend-lunch doesn't start before 13:00, meaning there'll be food around 15:00, and there should be enough grub to last till sunset. As important as the food is shade, cause sunstroke will destroy your appetite. Bashi & Bram added an impressive shady patch to the house, which serves as a carport when there are no guests.


Luckily Mpho (Gift, 14) was there to prevent Bram from burning down the shade while frying boerwors. It's probably good the rest of the food, Indian vegetarian and Bram's special chicken livers, didn't require a braai... Add a bucket of sangria to wash the grub down, and you have another one of these mellow African weekend-afternoons we love so much.


It's amazing how the language-issue never bothers kids. The new Dutch-Scottish arrivals are mildly surprised some kids speak neither Dutch nor English, but it doesn't seem to hamper their games at all.


Finally something decent to eat: desserts!
After playing all afternoon one really craves for some red & green jelly, coconut & coffee custard, and vanilla & cashew ice cream to regain strength.
We shouldn't have worried about entertaining the kids: our 'Africa-car', with a roof rack and ladder, is all they need. Callum (4): "Jullie hebben de allerdemooiste Afrika-auto." (And our small bakkie is 'de allerdeliefste'.)

Many Morgen

Thursday we visited our neighbour Mma Binkie at her masimo. She has a lot of farmland, considering everything except for the ploughing is done by hand: eight morgen. But this year she only farms on two morgen, because she didn't have cash in time to hire the tractor for more ploughing.
It might also have something to do with the fact that only she, an approximately 60-years old lady, and her even older looking brother are willing to work on the masimo. To put it in Bashi's words: it's a disgrace the kids and elder grandchildren are hanging around town without jobs, and only turn up during the weekends to wriggle money out of the old lady.
When we arrived the two golden oldies were busy weeding, to free the maize, sorghum and sugarcane from the big, wiry grasses. We probably wouldn't last one hour, shovelling by hand in the blazing hot sun! So we realized when Mma Binkie showed us around, and told us to pick as much morogo as we liked.
Morogo means green leaves used as vegetables in general, and right now the bean leaves are in season. We cleaned and prepared them according to Mma Binkie's directions, and they were really nice. They're an important part of a nutritious winter-diet. To make your winter-stock, you cook them shortly, and than spread them out on the roof to dry. Mma Binkie already gave us a bag of those, which we'll try to take to the Netherlands.
Although our conversations are hampered by the fact she speaks mostly Setswana to us, and we speak mainly English and Afrikaans to her, the three of us seem to be able to exchange information. She explained why every day she walks all the way to the masimo before sunrise, and all the way back around sundown, instead of staying in the little house on the lands over the week. Her lands are quite close to the tar road, and the Zimbabweans like to force entry into the house and stay overnight, so it's dangerous.