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.