Resting ripe babes

Maud & Dotcom walked 6 k's in 1 hour...

Mister Abraham

Life is hard in the bush!!!!

There are also new pictures with old posts

Red Tape

The first Big Difference between holiday and work overseas is the huge amount of red tape. Right now we’re very proud we got our ‘idiot-forms’. We’re officially mentally sound (as Hamish would say: Bram’s (m)oral aptitude has been approved of). But that’s just one of many forms, and each form has to be copied and certified three times. Our stamp collection is multiplying like mice!
This whole process is frustrating, amusing, a catch 22 (for instance: you can’t get a local bank account without a residence permit, you can’t get the permit without the account), and flabbergasting all at once. Than again we’re the lucky ones, with okay-looking native documents in five languages, and we’re in Botswana, where the Dutch consulate is fabulous. Imagine being Chinese, or an African in the Netherlands...

House-Hunting

Again the hunt for a ‘our house’ didn’t take long. There’s just one tiny obstacle: it isn’t finished - yet. There’re loads of other houses for rent, partly because people save money by building and letting instead of putting it in a savings account, but ... we want this place in Morwa!
We’re just spoilt by our Mochudi-house earlier this year. We can’t look at a residence as such anymore; the view, the atmosphere, the people living around it - vague stuff like that has to feel ‘okay’, otherwise we won’t take it.
Our landlord-to-be (who happens to be business-editor at Mmegi, www.mmegi.bw, one of the many coincidences we encounter) says he’ll have this house fit to live in for us by December first. We’ll see.
For the time being we rent a lovely, although over budget cottage at Peter’s Place in Gaborone and enjoy the luxury of having everything taken care of and watching satellite television.

WWS 3

‘Where We Sleep’: third stop, Hamish’s in Gaborone.

Babbelas

After surviving our Dutch bye bye parties we should have enough experience to survive our African welcome home celebrations… This small get together in Potch got a tiny bit out of hand – turning into a big hit.
Big it was, and hit it does, in de morning! How much coffee, Tab and water does one need the day after to overcome this serious dehydration? Luckily Louis dished out some pills before we went to sleep, so the babbelas doesn’t give us a headache.

WWS 2

‘Where We Sleep’: second stop, Louis’ in Potchefstroom.

Bakkie

We’re the proud owners of a Nissan 1400 bakkie standard – a very basic, retro car, and for both of us the first brand-new vehicle in our live.
Buying it was ever so easy. In the morning we walked to Main Street, had an hour of looking at cars, and decided it had to be this lovely bakkie instead of a second-hand Toyota Tazz. Nick helped us bargain with a couple of Nissan-garages, and in the afternoon this bakkie was ours.
Getting the export-license was a different story. After an hour or so of racing around Joburg with our driver from Nissan, and visiting police stations that couldn’t help us, we ended up at the right place. Together with a lot of other people who desperately wanted ‘clearance’ to prove they don’t drive a stolen vehicle. After hours of moving from one counter to another, waiting, and chatting someone called for ‘the people who go to Botswana’, and we got our clearance and export license.
In Potch we pimped the bakkie with a gear lock, immobilizer and radio, and makeshift Sun Design logo, so now we’re all set to go.

WWS 1

‘Where We Sleep’: first stop, Nick’s in Joburg.

First Job

Our first evening in Joburg and we already have a temporary job: making fruit-packages for one of Nick’s businesses. It’s a sweatshop and the wages are zilch, but it’s lots of fun and the beers are free :-)

Joburg

I’m sitting on Nick’s porch, enjoying the sounds of the African birds – even the shouts of the hadida are lovely on our first day back.
Heathrow once again proved to be the airport from hell, but we survived and as a bonus our luggage arrived on the same plane. At Jan Smuts we had to wait for the Zurich-plane, which would bring Nick’s niece back from the youth world championship karate. That gave us time to discover Jan Smuts, soon to be OR Tambo airport, is a big building pit now because of the preparations for the 2010 soccer.
Now the sun sets and the crickets start their concert. My nose is still too blocked from flying to enjoy the smells, except for the kamfer I put in between the clothes we left here, but tomorrow I’ll also smell Africa. All in one: it’s marvelous to be back!

PHONES

We're still struggling with the connection between our usb-stick and the internet-cafe-pc's, so you'll have to wait a bit longer for our pictures and adventures.
For the moment you just get our Botswana cell-numbers:
Bram +26771219936
Maud +26771219954
You can also send sms's to Maud's Dutch cell-phone (thanks for testing, Kristien).
Hope to be able to tell you more soon!

Mo(u)rning after

Every single one of our many bye bye parties deserves it's own post, but this picture sums it up nicely. Leaving for six months just takes too much 'organize darling, organize' to blog.
Our Leiden-house has never been so clean, and so 'almost finished'– thanks to a lot of help! Let's pray it will be rented fulltime... The mountain of potential luggage will never fit into two 23-kilo suitcases… To survive we'll just pack our farewell-presents: solar-powered equipment, binoculars, digital compass, cd's, books and diaries.
Lots of thanks to all of you!!!

Zeeland-party

We had an abfab weekend-holiday in Zeeland with Janny & Cees. To celebrate Bram’s 50th birthday, and Maud’s 45th, and because we survived two years of wedlock, they gave us a weekend in their Zeeland-farmhouse and our pick of shows from the Zeeland autumn festival.
Friday we saw Wagner’s ‘Der Fliegende Hollander’, performed in the harbour of Terneuzen, in between two channels. A great show – the performers were good, and the ships passing by left and right made for the perfect mis-en-scene.
Saturday evening we went to Kamp West-Kapelle to hear the stories of the now Dutch people who came from the Molukken.
A bit of history: after the Second World War the Netherlands had to give up their Indonesian colonies. The government lured the KNIL-soldiers (royal Dutch Indonesian army), and their families, over to Holland by promising them it would only be for a short time, they would organize an autonomous state in the Molukken for them. This, of course, didn’t happen, and the KNIL-people and their families lived for years in these camps that were only suited for a short stay. ‘Imagine it happens to you, being bon in a camp, hardly any light, 8 square meters for a family – imagine’. ‘Imagine being a kid, born in a camp, 8 square meters for a family, hardly any food, clothes, whatever, waiting to return to your homeland, and wait, and wait, and wait – imagine’.
Totally different from the impressing Wagner-cultural experience, but equally touching, the music and songs as told by a little girl, now 52 years old actress. The impact was enforced by the decor: the courtyard of a real former camp (now used as caravan-storage) Many of the other visitors sitting next to us were the actual camp-dwellers from years ago.
Sunday-afternoon we joined a much lighter sing along-event in Middelburg, and than back to the Randstad, back to work.

Anniversary

After two years of wedlock...

First Cousins

Aren't they lovely: Bram (50) and Joseph (0,5) - the most charming, beautiful brada's ever seen...
You can see they share a granddad!

Build with Beer

Wednesday evening Bram’s brother arrived to do some professional jobs in the house and help with the beer (due to bad coordination Maud & Bram both bought a lot). Friday our sister in common law and their daughter joined us. A brilliant concept: Henk-i, Harriet and Jolin did a lot of work and kept us working, and we had a fun weekend.
Saturday Jolin decided to hop over to tio Haroen to play with her nieces and baby Joseph. She deserved it, after cleaning auntie Maud’s Barbie-stuff and hanging out with all this boring grownups Friday-evening. We had Bram’s & Henk-i’s friend from way back when Victor and his wife Lena over for dinner – party for the grownups, but for a 7 year old...
Jolin’s Saturday-program was a lucky shot for us, because auntie Marisabel decided picking up the girl should be a group effort, and a family dinner opportunity. Her delicious meal gave us strength for our working Sun(Design)day...
Now it’s Sunday-evening and we’re tired and very happy with all the work that’s done!

Tio, Tia, Family

Karen, Ma Marisabel, Daniella, Marisabel, Haroen, Joseph

Changing Jobs

Thursday Maud had her last day at the office. We skipped the big party we had in mind, because her new boss wanted her on duty immediately after office hours. In fact office hours at Sun Design, were she is working now, are round the clock. And being PA for one of the two directors, Bram D., is killing.
Maud can’t wait till October 5th, when Bram starts working for the other Sun Design-director. This woman surely will give him a hard time also!!!

Billemaatjes

Tlo and Tau, busy with their favourite activity. They’re a bit offended because we’re not in between them and the fat boys, but they’ll manage.

About Chicks and Pits

Us (surrogate) parents had a very, very hard weekend. In between changing nappies, feeding and loitering in the sandpit or swimming pool you have to down your morning coffee and afternoon beers & wine during the babies' naps. And the toddler only sleeps in the afternoon...
But Jack (1 year and a bit) had the hardest time of all. He discovered All there’s to know About Girls.
Picture this. You’ve got a few days off left. It’s a blazing hot summer, so you decide to escape Amsterdam and venture into the woods. You arrive in time to join the dinner party, and hey, look, at that other table, there’s this single chick. Great body, nicely tanned, angelic face, natural blond curls. You smile at her, she smiles back. It’s almost bedtime, so you ask here out for the next day. You plan the perfect day: breakfast, sandpit, lunch, pool, dinner – the works.
The sandpit is a big hit, so you try to kiss her, and she accepts. The pool is an even bigger hit, even though you did not manage to grab some booze (horribly greedy adults). She flirts with you all the way through dinner, and you have this great, feet-on-the-table, after dinner conversation about life. Cool, things are working out! You ask her to meet you in the now familiar sandpit the next morning and she agrees with this angelic smile.
Early the next morning, all excited about YOUR girl, you race into the sand. She’s there, angelic smile and all. And all is what she grabs. Your tools. Your cars. Even your auntie. And than she runs off with this tanned dude...

Hairdo

Why is Maud scratching her head all the time? It’s not lice; it’s the new hairdo.
After years of Bram begging to get the hair braided and Maud refusing to do so there was this offer you can’t refuse. Joyce came over from Ghana for a holiday, and as she is the best hairdresser...
Imagine she worked in Botswana at the Afrodizzia hair saloon, which Bram and Maud know quite well.

Morning after

After our umptieth farewell-party (yeah, we got a head-start, and there’ll be many more) we planned a weekend full of activities. Bit of gym, loads of renovating, bit of shopping... Now we’re having coffee & aspirins for breakfast, trying to build up strength for the day. Luckily someone did most of the dishes & general cleaning up after the guests left – must have been us, still feeling like sweet 16. By the way, our youngest culinary discovery is chilled baklava accompanied by chilled rose.

P(L)EACE

Everyday, all over the world, people wake up and look around.

View from my bedroom window: Rima | Bram & Maud

.

Akwaba

This poor blog got totally neglected because Maud has this urge to exchange huge emails with her friend Kristien every day. Meanwhile there has been a lot to blog about, as you can see in the pictures below.
Happy pictures – not like the ones Rima (a Lebanese colleague of Bram) mailed from Beirut. Living next to the airport she has a good view of what the Israelis are doing.
While Rima is bombed we went to the yearly Ghana-day in Den Haag. Ghana-day is good company, music, food, and beer. Joyce made redred so we had an excellent picnic. Having a beer with it is a bit complicated. First you have to find the beer-woman in between the women with the big coolers selling drinks. Together with your hard-earned beers you get plastic bags to wrap around it, because there’s this official walking around telling everyone ‘no alcohol’. Luckily he can’t see the difference between the original spa-bottles and the ones refilled with apetashe...

Arali Indiya

July 10th our beautiful niece Arali Indiya Hira Sing was born to Vladimir and Arti.

Vi-king&queen

Peter & Anette from Denmark surviving in the lowlands: doing dishes, sunscreen and trafficjams

7/7: Ivan 77

Bram’s dad Ivan throws his birthday-party in the ‘wild-gnome-woods’

Liv

July is a fertile month – last year our nephew Jack was born, this year brought us two beautiful girls. Here’s the first beauty: Liv from Taco and Lenny.

The making of:

Hatman & Little Jack – a slapstick for Cees

Party-animals

Sunday Maud had a little get-together that was planned 26 years ago. Okay, the original plan was we would meet 10 years after finishing high-school, but there was a slight delay. Thinking we are responsible grownups now we decided on lunchish, starting 1.00 pm. The last people left past 1.00 am. The only problem being that you may feel like 18 again, but when the alarm wakes you at 6.00 am your body tells you your real age.
It’s funny to see people change and don’t change – even if you didn’t see them for 26 years, there’s so much which makes it like yesterday (hence our successful attempt to digest the same amount of chips, wine, peanuts and beer as we used to do in France while celebrating finishing high-school).
After a very blue Monday at work we recovered quickly because we celebrated Rachel’s birthday. Rachel’s mom Jacinta flew in from Scotland, and again we had a wondrous evening, which made Maud forget she planned to go to bed before midnight. (For our irregular readers: Rachel stars in Portanol.)

Too busy for words

October 24th we go back to southern Africa, to stay until the first day of May. To do what? That’s mainly ??? for us also. Part of the time Bram will be teaching graphic design at Pretoria University. In between we want to spend a lot of time in Botswana, doing ‘whatever you want, we’ll design it’ to earn some duku.
This plan keeps us very busy now already. We both have to quit our jobs to do this, which means we have to start networking because we want freelance-work in Holland when we return. We must let the Leiden-house, which means a lot of unfinished renovation-projects have to be finished quickly. We need more work than Bram’s Pretoria-job to survive, which asks for preparation also. Last but not least we like to enjoy our Dutch friends & family as long as we are here. See the sleeping beauties, our first cousins Karen (r) & Daniela (l), and Joseph.

Giant

Coming home Saturday we encountered two very angry cats. Tlo & Tau were so Not Amused that they decided to Ignore us (and to Refuse to Eat, which is a miracle) for Two Whole Hours.
Bram’s been to Brussels with his brothers & sissie. The first night the boys managed to loose their little sister because they were loitering in the station while she jumped into the train. With the tickets, Bram told Maud when he phoned her immediately. Luckily they managed to follow her trail and have a great time together.
Meanwhile Maud managed to become incapable of wearing shoes for the time being. The first foot went when she got stuck between the kitchen counter and Reus’ ass, while he was fighting with Kyro. Reus (Giant) is Maud’s mom’s Big Dog, and Kyro is the dog-who-thinks-he’s-a-human (and loves his white whine; he used to live with a whino). The second one went when Maud helped her mom to build a Fong Kong greenhouse. Because it was raining, and raining, and raining, we decided to make the zillion small parts into bigger parts in the carport. While carrying the front wall over the hill to the building place, Maud slipped, and the ladies saved the greenhouse, but the ankle went. By now the beautiful greenhouse stands, and Maud looks like a fool, walking around on slippers in this very cold, very rainy spring.

Stormy 60

The beautiful summery weather has changed into a stormy spring. Which is good, because we finally had two days to start finishing the house, and staying inside doesn’t hurt now. Maud succeeded in creating a stormy look all around the house. She decided more cleaning out is needed before we can start building, so there’re boxes and piles of stuff around everywhere. Poor mothers, they’re grannies now, so they definitely need books, toys, et cetera. Poor Bram is cycling back and forth to the ‘give-away shop’, where you can bring things you don’t need anymore, and people can shop for free, with the surplus.
Sunday we celebrated the 60th birthday of Maud’s uncle Aernout with a stormy sailing tour on the IJsselmeer in his 104-year old botter (wooden fishing boat).

Unicorn

Yet another weekend with a lot of socializing, a bit of gardening and no revamping the house at all... By the way, does anyone know how to get rid of the bright red bugs that eat lilies? (Preferable without using poison. I already tried catching & killing them, and the eggs and larvae, last year, but there are too many.)
It’s still a summery summer, so we did the boat-thing with our Thursday-, Saturday-and Sunday-guests. Floating around town, the boat loaded with friends, drinks, and nibbles, Holland is nice again. As long as we’re on our own island... Which includes loitering in our garden with friends this Friday-evening.
By now everyone is wondering why this post is titled ‘Unicorn’. Because of a weird item in one of Maud’s language-newsletters. Unicorn used to be the name of the Dutch peace-mission in Afghanistan. It’s a name that has good connotations with the Afghanis, they say. Now they changed it because it makes English speaking soldiers (Americans, I suppose) think of a gay movement in the us of a. When we first read it, we thought it was a joke, but it seems to have really happened. Words fail to express what we think of this.

Portanol

Last weekend we learned an abfab new word: Portanol. It’s what you get when you mix Portuguese and Spanish.
We had Rachel, who is doing her post-graduate design studies in Eindhoven, over for the weekend. It was great having someone around with so much ideas, plans and experiences. Special for the old uncle Bram is that he first made Rachel pictures when she was a toddler still, this babe has come a long way indeed.
Saturday tio Haroen & tia Marisabel & kids joined the party. Because Marisabel, Karen & Daniella don’t speak English, and Rachel doesn’t speak Dutch, they introduced us to Portanol. We’re lucky Verdonk doesn’t rule (yet?); she proposed this ridiculous rule that you have to speak Dutch on the street. Going to the market with the young ladies Bram would’ve been in serious trouble. By the way, what about Fries, Limburgs, Twents, Leids, et cetera? Is that confined to the home too? Can we still speak Dunglish and Nefrikaans in the garden?

Promises, promises

The promised weekly blogging has been a disaster up till now because of ‘too much happening’. We came home with the usual great plans: orderly go to work, renovate the house, do the garden and in between have fun with friends and family. As usual life isn’t orderly and takes over.
After we were home for exactly one week a very good friend died totally unexpected so we set everything aside to help his sister organize the funeral and all the things that have to be done when someone dies.
So everything else got pushed forward, and still is pushed forward. Like adjusting to the Netherlands. Back in the brick jungle we long for space. Physical space, obviously, but bit-by-bit we also feel enclosed by narrow-mindedness and intolerance. We know things have been changing over the last couple of years, but after some time away from it all it suddenly hits you harder. To be honest we don’t even want to adjust to this atmosphere of fear and how it makes people behave.
Still ... seeing everybody is good and the Dutch cheese is delicious.

Loitering in Leiden

Back in Holland the overwhelming warm ‘welcome home’ compensates the cold (a bit:-) We just enjoyed the quiche our neighbours put in the fridge, and decided to keep blogging for the people back home and far-away friends & family. ‘Back home’ is a complicated concept. When we’re here, back home is there, when we’re there, back home is here. Anyway, there’ll be a new post & picture approximately once a week.

Einstein:

The relativity of the fat ass.

Buying ladies underwear in Botswana is an adventure in itself. It seems simple: go to a shop, grab a value pack of knickers that has your size stamped on it, and pay.
When you come to the cashier, she measures you with her eyes. She asks suspiciously:
“Is this for you?”
“Yes.”
“You know it’s big?”
“Thanks, it’s my size.”
“You know it’s BIG?”
“Oh, it’ll fit.”
Looking doubtful she allows you to pay. Having second thoughts you have a look at it before you leave the shop. Out comes an oversized family party tent. Don’t worry about the size of your ass; it just depends on where you are.

Seswaa or the Goat’s Fate

As our faithful readers already know, Bram and Pangaman bought and slaughtered the party goat. The two happy hunters rented space at the butchers to keep the goat cool. The next day Bram had an outing planned for Maud: get a bucket full of entrails from the butcher to put into Pelo’s freezer. This kept Maud busy sticking her head out of the car window as far as possible without being decapitated by the acacia’s.
On party day early in the morning Bram organized another nice trip: pick up Pangaman (quite sleepy because he’d been at a funeral all night), go to the butcher, have the goat sawn to seswaa-pieces, and use our beautiful bakkie to bring the mutilated corpse to the Sunset Bar.
While the guys were sawing, Bram happily walked out with the head in a bucket (“it’s a delicacy”), and put it in the car. Maud decided to take a chance with the acacia’s, and took refuge on the roof until the corpse was offloaded.
Everyone said it was a long time ago since they had such marvelous seswaa.

Organize, darling, organize

It’s the day after: we’re happy and crashed out. Happy because in the end all went well. Crashed out because it was an a-fubar* party…
Picture this:
You’re having your party at a bar - that takes care of drinks & music, you suppose. The bar owner has a ‘very experienced’ girl who’ll organize the food (meaning shopping & cooking). Plates, pots, etcetera will be available. You’ve organized it, you think, but, you didn’t reckon with nafi’s**.
After almost daily checking you discover the evening before that there’s no stock in the drinks-department of the bar. Feeling a bit suspicious you decide to borrow the wholesale card and organize the drinks yourself.
When you bring the drinks in the wee hours of the party-morning you discover there’s no cooking going on, and nothing has been purchased, except for the shopping list they gave you. Mayonaise, oil, and spices – that makes an interesting dinner… Fortunately you made a back-up plan after the drinks-disaster: speed-order the paletshe and salads in ‘your’ Mochudi-restaurant. The Nna-ladies did an abfab last minute job!
By than you decide to back-up everything anyway. Pelo saved our asses by lending us plates, pots etcetera. Our other heroes are Panga-seswaa-man and the baker, who proudly handed over Bram’s beautiful birthday cake right on time.
* almost fucked up beyond all repair
** no ambition fuckall interest

Golden boys

Everyone who wasn’t there: thanks a lot for the B-Day blog comments, e- and snail-mails, sms’s, phone calls, and presents!!!
Our first guests brought Bram’s snail-mail, so we could put on the cd Paul sent from Scotland immediately. We listened, chatted, and were flabbergasted it seemed to happen after all.
What almost went fubar came out as a nice, mellow madala-party, with a few guys who remembered Bram’s wild 25th-party in Serowe. Seeing the mountain of leftover beers, the guys aren’t that wild anymore, but their stories about their golden days get wilder every year. Interesting (this is a Maud-observation): if you say it’s enlightening to get to know the man behind your man, the guys immediately say they’re just trying to overbid each others war stories…
Not that it was total oldies; the old warriors brought in some young adults also (their kids), to add djive to the party.
Fafyoif!

Lady Grey

our Pretoria-branch will post a picture later

When Maud asked Nick 'What's the most beautiful spot in South-Africa?' he said 'Lady Grey, where my mom grew up on the family-farm'. Saturday morning he took Gerhard and Maud over there, while Bram had to stay back home and prepare his lectures. After tannie Elsa installed Bram & laptop safely in the sunroom, we were on our way.
The trip itself, up to the Lesotho-border, where the really high, fierce mountains start, is magnificent. As Nick promised, you don't see Lady Grey until you almost enter the village, because it's build between two mountains. We start our tour with a little village-sightseeing on our way to the dam. Driving through an almost Austria-like wood we reach the dam, build where two mountains meet. The water splashes down lavishly over the high, high wall. I almost can't believe in winter you can climb to the top over the side of the waterfall. Right now you would be washed away immediately.
It's too cold to swim, but we fool around in the shallow part of the water anyway before we master the top. Walking over the dam-wall the calm lake and the force of the water splashing down is unbelievable. The high, green valley goes into Lesotho, and Maud decides she must definitely do another horseback-trip with Bram over there.
Back in the village lunch is a good excuse to explore the nicely restored old hotel. Refreshed we start our village-tour. Lady Grey is very different from the other small Oostkaap-villages. Thanks to its beauty the exodus of youngster to town is compensated by town-people who want to escape Big City.
We end our tour with a visit to the graveyard to bring flowers for Nick's granny, and to the church where his parents married. Next to the church is a small museum. We phone the caretaker because we want to see the clothes Nick's granny made for the museum. Maud has never been in one of those village-museums, and is fascinated by the collection and the caretaker, who knows the history of almost all the items on display and every person in the many pictures.
We drive on to the family-farm. Over the tar road out of the village, which immediately disappears between the mountains. At the spot where the train used to stop to pick up the milk, we turn onto the dirt road, up, down, up, down, until we see a valley. At the foot of the mountain in front of us we can see the ruins of the huge farmhouse. The mountain and the valley are even more beautiful as they looked on the pictures Maud has seen. On this point of no return we return to Jamestown, where we find Bram, very happy with the work he has done and the coffee & goodies tannie Elsa spoiled him with.

Plaas toe

our Pretoria-branch will post a picture later
scroll down to see the pictures added to earlier posts

We leave Jamestown via the main road, also the only tar road. Just out of the village we turn left on the dirt road, and drive up in the mountains. The views are magnificent. Thanks to the good rains the land is green and flowering and the cattle is fat. When the sun burns away the early morning mist and cold, the trees are brilliant with the first autumn colors. Bram and Maud enjoy the treat of sitting in the back of the bakkie – where you normally put the sheep.
The road becomes smaller and bumpier. Suddenly we are there: a little house for the workers, sheds for tools and sheep, and an overflowing dam. It's shaving time: two men with gigantic scissors free the sheep from their heavy coats. It's loitering time also: wander around, cross the dam, and try to give each other a cold mountain-water bath.
To see all the farmland, the sheep and the cows, we drive further up in the mountains. South-African farms are huge for Europeans: abfab beautiful rough valley after valley, with shepherds, some cattle, and patches of farmland where the winter-food grows.
We decide to walk back along the spring that ends in the dam, hunt for frogs and the leaves that you can make bangles from, and try to avoid the snakes. Maud of course managed to fall and get muddy. Luckily the boys looked the same after their water-fight down by the dam.
Back home there's a good farmer's meal, and some muddy clothes to wash before we can sit down to watch our daily soap.

Back in E-World

This is Maud, just back from Jamestown (near Aliwal North, hope I get the names right, in Oostkaap / Eastern Cape). After the peace and beauty of die Oostkaap I really have to adjust to the e-world with mail, internet, and etcetera. And after a week of only Afrikaans my English seems to have evaporated…
It's hard to imagine we left Botswana only a week ago! We had a luxury bus trip from Gabs to Rustenburg, where our Avis car picked us up so we could travel on to Potchefstroom. Around 18:00 Gerhard, Nick, Bram and Maud started their Eastern Cape Expotition. Although Maud and Gerhard managed to get lost around Bloemfontein, we reached Jamestown just after midnight (hope you have a map to see the distance), a surprise for Nick's parents, who only expected us the next day.
How to describe the surprise of arriving somewhere in the darkness of the night, waking up the next morning, and seeing the lovely big house, the small village and the wondrous surrounding landscape?
After an excellent farmer's breakfast we drove to oom Nico's plaats – the farmland up in the mountains, where Nick's father keeps sheep and cows. If you've seen our Lesotho-footage: we were near to the border, the landscape has that kind of beauty.
The next day poor Bram had to stay at home, preparing his Pretoria-lectures (although poor? he enjoyed the care of tannie Elsa!), while Nick took Gerhard and Maud to Lady Grey, a mountain-village on the Lesotho-border where his mom's family-farm used to be. Maud overcame her vertigo and climbed on top of the dam - it just was too beautiful to be afraid!
Sunday Gerhard and Bram had to shoot back to Potch / Pretoria because work called. Maud won the lottery: Nick invited her to stay and escape small and big city life a bit longer.
According to Bram's phone-calls he's doing fine in Pretoria. The university put him in a nice flat, and his lectures go well.
Meanwhile Nick and Maud were very busy. Imagine entertaining three little dogs who have to sit on your lap all day, a huge boerboel who thinks she's a chiwawa, lots of good meals, and in between you have to walk around the village, check the village-cows, go to Aliwal to have facials and lunch, drive to the farm to check the sheep and the crop, and a zillion things more.
Today we had to drive back up North because work called Nick. The boys (BGN) really tried to get me to Joburg for the weekend also, but although I love their company, I want to escape Big City more, so I stayed in Potch.

Planning

Due to a fubar usb-stick we can't publish our home-made blog-stories an -pictures online... Hope to solve this problem before we leave Botswana, so we can post the picture of 'Het Grote Gevaar' and other stuff!
We're planning to go to South-Africa Thursday 23 early in the morning. If we manage to reach Potchefstroom in time, we'll travel on to Oostkaap with Gerhard and Nick, to visit the farm owned by Nick's parents. Sunday 26 we have to be in Pretoria, because Bram's classes start Monday early in the morning.
We hope to find a fast internet-connection at Pretoria University. Otherwise Maud'll move on to Potch aruond March 30, and maybe manage to do some posting.

Bato barata Dikolobe

picture follows next week
Mask: Karen; T-Shirt: Peter Jensen & Bram; Doll: vangog ontwerpers; Cards: Pa, Karen, vangog

When Bram told Maud last year, on his 49th B-D, that the only thing he wanted for his 50th was 3 months in Botswana together, we never thought we would manage to arrange that, but here we are.
The day before D-Day Bram had his goat hunt with Pangaman. During the hunt his father-in-law phoned to give him some pointers about what to do with the catch. By the way, Maud’s dad managed to rig up a really good Skype-Out connection, wondrous!
Exhausted Bram managed not to touch his presents the evening before, and just fell asleep. Around 6 a.m. the B-D Boy attacked his goodies pile, smelling heavenly thanks to the Chanel present from Tio H and Tia Maria-I. While we were admiring the T-shirt Peter Jensen sent from Denmark, decorated with a drawing Bram did 27 years ago of Peter, Paul and Bram dressing up for Peter’s party, Pietje phoned from Maun. The evening before Bram already had a surprise present: he discovered his friend Gao, who died 7 years ago, fathered Pelo’s 21-year old daughter. One of those unbelievable coincidences of life!
All in all, an excellent start of what will be a very busy day. We planned to stay home alone, but as always stuff comes up. The goat’s corpse, which is hanging at the butcher, has to be transferred back to Jeff & Pelo. The original plan was to keep the poor animal alive in their garden till today, but Jeff doesn’t trust his hunting dogs around a nice snack like that. The woman who organizes the party cooking needs to go shopping today, so we have to drive. In between we have to rush over to Gabs for some last-minute color proofing on Andre’s billboards. Pelo found a nice small thatched house in Morwa we might rent next year, if we can come to an agreement with the owner, so we have to make a plan. And a zillion things more.
But first we’re going to enjoy a very special breakfast. In between hunting and slaughtering Bram managed to find cheese at an Italian Deli - not the plastic cheddar you’ll find in the supermarket, so we’ll postpone the Peanut Butter Contest judging till Sunday.
Just now our nephews Jelle & David are singing birthday songs over the phone, all the way from Marknesse. Before we left Holland they gave Bram super cool self-made strips. Bram’s sister Christine tells the special B-Day present, Joseph, couldn’t wait till today, so Marisabel had her caesarian February 26, on Linde’s B-Day.

Dangers

Some of you will be very disappointed by now, us staying in the ‘untamed Africa’, as someone called it, and our life being so tame. So here are the dangers we experienced so far.
The biggest threat up till now is getting a contagious illness from freshly arrived Western-Europeans. Mopping the house is also risky; Maud had a very painful week after crashing her back while cleaning. Another threat is the Batswana style of driving, a bunch of would be Schumachers without the skills, Andre calls them. So we avoid the streets when it’s really Schumacher-time: Friday and Saturday after six p.m.
While camping with the rhino’s the heavy winds blew down a tree that was half eaten by termites. Luckily this happened during the night, while we were sleeping in our tents, which we put under other shady trees. Miraculously the tree also didn’t crash Bram’s birthday presents. It just missed the skottelbraai, and although it hit the fridge, this heavenly luxurious item still works, although it looks a bit battered now.
Also at the rhino’s Bram & Maud experienced a first: a group of young males, which didn’t go out of the way, but approached the car. Cursing that he was missing the video footage of his life, Bram did as Maud bid and backed up, after which the rhino’s came to a standstill, looking very satisfied. Moremi and Ompatile confirmed this was a first in their park, rhino’s walking up to a car.
What about malaria, cholera- or otherwise infected water, yellow fever, etcetera? We’re sorry to disappoint the Damn Sexy Bitch, but this wild part of Africa also doesn’t have that. To meet malaria mosquitoes you have to travel far up north, and yellow fever is much further north again. The tap water is drink water quality, so we get to use our water cleansing tablets only in some suspicious looking South-African camps.

Loitering with Rhinos

On a sunny Friday morning we left for Serowe with Christa & Michel. Just after Mochudi one realizes again this is the oldest patch of tar in Botswana, patched up a zillion times, but by now fubar (fucked up beyond all repair). Arab Contractors Botswana are busy making a new road next to the old one, so maybe next year we’ll just fly over the posh highway. Lets hope the little bar on the Tropic of Capricorn than reopens, it’s so romantic to have a guave juice exactly on that geographical border.
In Palapye Bram and Christa did their desperate ‘last chance before camping food’ shopping at the takeaway, so we had a fridge load of chicken livers and chicken filled fatcakes for our campsite eekhoorn.
In Serowe we did the first half of our usual tour. Like every year, the Tswaragano Hotel looked a bit more run down, but hurrah, this year the bar had more than tap water on stock. As always the magnificent view from the terrace made Bram long for the old days, when you would only see the spread-out roundavel-village around you. The Ghanaian dressmaker is still there and once again we proved to the Batswana employees that Ghana has its own language by exchanging our 6 words Tswi with the owner. We found a nice ‘his & her’ outfit for Bram’s birthday, and Mma Kofi gave Bram a ‘first put on your sunglasses’ shirt as a present. Zaba Watson also is still there, but he’s closing the General Dealer that has been in the family since 1946. He doesn’t want to compete anymore with the Chinese, Korean and Indian crap that is so popular nowadays.
Quite a disaster for Maud; it was the best shop in the world, with literally everything. Tree-legged pots, needles, kamferoil, flour, soap, water tanks, buttons, machetes, shoes, axes, cookies, shovels – you name it, they got it.
At the Seretse Khama Memorial Museum Skobi had a surprise for us, actually three surprises. The picture-exhibition of Serowe through the centuries is ready, since visiting Eastern Europe & Russia he’s not a communist anymore, and he build a General Dealer like it was in the old days. So next year Bram has to do some sign painting on that project. In the old mall Christa & Maud went to look at the remains of the Big Fire last November – it must have been big indeed! (For Botswana-news read Mmegi online
www.
After a quick visit to the bottle store (having a fridge means you have to fill it…) we pushed to the Seretse Khama Rhino Sanctuary for another homecoming. As soon as we jumped out of the car Ompatile proudly announced the birth of yet another white rhino, only about two weeks ago. So after making a camp at one of the most beautiful camping sites on earth, we headed out for a game drive. There it was, happily splashing around in the big pan, next to it’s mother and a bunch of other rhino’s. Not quite sure of it’s identity yet: when a herd of impala’s walked by, it wanted to join them. It’s like something from ancient times, the rhino’s, especially when the light-footed, graceful antelopes mix with them. But when they start to run, their plumpness evaporates and they fly over the savannah like ballet dancers.
While sitting around our campfire we felt the weather changing. Rain we had before, but now the cold came with it. During the days, the rain stopped, but the cold stayed, Maud even bought a winter coat. Moremi, the park manager, tried to cheer us up by telling it was snowing heavily in the Netherlands and England.
The sanctuary really is a small paradise. Cruising around we managed to see more rhino’s, ostriches, zebras, duikers, kudu, red hartebeest, gemsbok, other antelopes, and lots of birds. Moremi asked Bram to update the map he designed 8 years ago, and do some other artwork, so we have to come back next year to see ‘our’ brochure and vehicle stickers, and camp for a while in paradise.
We put Christa & Michel on a bus to Maun and ended our Serowe-tour with giving the bakkie to Motushi for more repairs and a visit to the printers. It’s very, very sad to see the printers going down. They got a big donation once again, and spend it on the wrong computers, ignoring all Bram’s advice, and a business manager who turned out to be a Zimbabwean crook.

New pictures on site

There’s RSA & Botswana 2006 pictures on
www.maudenbram.nl
in the Gallery
bots 2006

Christa & Michel

Monday evening Christa & Michel arrived with the Joburg-Gabs bus, bringing fresh drop & stroopwafels from Holland. We were a bit worried because it was still rainish and, according to us, fokken cold. Luckily fresh arrivees from Western Europe have a different concept of ‘cold’, and the rain reduced to a few showers. Quite busy now, pfffffffff, showing The Mochudi bar, The Mochudi restaurant, The Morwa bar, The Gabs pie place etcetera. Bram already managed to convince a hair salon owner she’ll be perfectly able to ‘do’ Christa’s hair, so we’re very curious what her ‘blocks’ (whatever that is) will look like. Don’t know if she’ll allow us to blog a picture…
Friday we’ll go to Serowe, to camp at the Rhino Sanctuary and visit some people. Sunday or Monday Maud & Bram shoot back to Mochudi, while Christa & Michel take a bus to Maun, and maybe will try a mokoro-trip (tree trunk canoe) into the Okavango Delta.

Loitering at Limpopo River

When Hamish makes a promise, he performs – 500 percent.
He promised Maud a slippry, slimy weekend at the banks of Limpopo river, and she got it.
We started this expotition on a sunny Saturday morning. First we drove from Mochudi to the massimo of Mma Mpo to bring her a big three-legged pot (size 20), pick up Mpo’s cousin Binno, and have a look at the lands. After admiring the maize, sorghum, beans, and melons Modioke invited us for a delicious sempe lunch. The boys of course had to practice shooting (windbuks) - why is it men want to kill everything which dares to move? It already started to drizzle…
We happily drove on to the Limpopo. First stop: a flooded piece of land near to the river, where a lot of cattle egrets and other birds were having a field day. It still rained a little bit. Second stop: a beautiful spot at the Limpopo, where some boys were fishing. We strolled along the riverbanks, enjoying the fine, sunny weather. Trying to cross the river to the South-African side, Binno sunk in the mud over his ankles, Mpo managed to get in till his thighs and Scoogie changed himself from a white to a brownish grey Jack Russell. We thought about camping right there, but decided to drive on to Olifantsdrift anyway.
The dirt road to the village was very good, the weather stayed fine, and even after Olifantsdrift village we hit only a few mud pools which looked like prone to get stuck in. The side Hamish picked to camp looked marvelous, a bit higher up, lots of trees for shade, and next to a dam in the river, which created nice fishing spots above and underneath the dam. There should be crocs and hippos, but even Mpo didn’t manage to spot one. While Hamish tried to walk the kids (3, 5, 11-ish and 13-ish) Bram and Maud started to build the camp, on a nice, barren spot. We were still in a cattle-area, which means you don’t want to camp in the cow-tick infested grass.
Our part of the camp looked ever so nicely when the sky went from blue to gray. We left the preparations for the cooking fire for what they were, dug out Hamish’s tent and managed to get it kind of upright before the rains started. Seriously. Within an hour we got our, slippry, slimy banks, a 500 percent (much like the Zeeland klei we know so well)! We could have done with a bit less convincing performance…
When the little ones finally stopped crying, the rain stopped also, so we had a happy campers evening in the mud.
Sunday after breakfast there was a break in the rain again, so the boys went fishing. Luckily we had an endless amount of peanut butter & bread with us, because they didn’t catch quite enough to feed the whole group. We even managed to pack up before it started raining again.
Maud & Bram rushed back to Gabs via Mochudi for a seldom occasion: Pietje would fly in from Maun, to sign for his new Dutch passport, and sleep over at our place. We didn’t expect to see him in Gabs, which he tries to avoid like the plague, and we won’t manage to get to Maun this year. It was very good to see him again, and when we brought him back to Seretse Khama Airport he revealed he would be in again half March to go to the clinic, so we’ll have another evening together at our house.

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.