WWS 14

Where We Sleep: Beaufort-West, Privaatplaats Springbokkie
The next two nights before we enter Kaapstad we would camp in Great Karoo National Park. Upon arriving we hear it’s full because of a marathon. We drive back to Beaufort-West and find this heavenly private game-farm, where the antelopes graze around the tent at night. See white springbuck and you’ve seen a fairytale come alive!

WWS 13

Where We Sleep: Kimberly, Gastehuis Hadida
According to plan our first camping night would be in Vaalbos Nature Reserve. When we are nearby we realize we tried to camp there years ago, but couldn’t reach it because the bridge over the Vaal-river was flooded. Now we discover the reserve is closed because they’re going to mine there. The Municipal Camping we ended up at years ago was horrible, so we drive back to the mining-town Kimberly and take the first signposted guesthouse. Also not an experience to repeat, but it’s nice to have experienced it once.

Back Home

“We saw you driving into Morwa and thought let’s give them 10 minutes”, Bester says when he enters the yard just after we arrive back home. Those 10 minutes were enough to assemble a mountain of stuff in the living room, wondering how that pile ever fitted into the small bakkie. And how come we need so much for a little trip.
While Bester, Bashi and Manase tell us the latest Jeff phones to say we should move our ass over to his yard for a braai. First we have to offload the cement and furniture Bester brought, and enjoy his – forgot the name, but it is nice coffee-liqueur indeed. Meanwhile the neighbour-dogs hop over for a bit of cuddling and food. All in one it’s good to be back home, and even better this place got to be like home.
For those of you who want to track our traces, we’ll give a brief route description, filling in details later.
The day after Valentine’s Day we crossed the border at Ramatlabana, and drove to Kimberly via Mafeking and the Great Karoo. February 16 we reached Beaufort West, where we camped two days in a private game-farm – 800 ha of heaven.
As planned we reached Cape Town Sunday 18. After a night in Simonstown with Murray and Edith, we stayed in Newlands (CT) at Paul’s apartment, until Sunday 25. We had a fabulous time, attending Dutch Match (matchmaking event South African and Dutch design offices), the Design Indaba - and some parties.
After our week of (net)working we did a bit of the famous Garden Route: Somerset West, Mosselbaai, George. We camped two nights near to Victoriabaai, where we managed to find yet again a heavenly spot.
No matter how nice our camping spot was, how beautiful nature is along the coast, the Garden Route sucks. We were ever so happy to drive to Jamestown February 27, to visit Nick’s parents. The stunning beauty of the Eastern Cape, and, far more important, the feeling of coming home when we stay with tannie Elsa and oom Nico, and of being with people who don’t pretend – what more do you want?
March 1 we drove on to Louis. How lucky we are, feeling sorry to leave, but going somewhere where we’re happy to arrive. Potchefstroom was as usual busy, busy, busy: so many friends to spend time with, and meanwhile organizing ourselves for the last week of our trip.
Sunday 4 Bram moved to Pretoria, with a suitcase full of fresh business-clothes, to teach at Pretoria University. March 7 Maud followed by bus. Saturday, when Bram turned 51, we drove back home (thanks to all the nice b-day wishes by phone from Holland on the way it took no time at all). Yesterday we took the familiar Tlokweng Border again, but new this time . . yeah, the proud feeling of skipping the ‘other passports’ counter!

Permits Galore

We got them! Since last Friday we’re the proud owners of work- and resident-permits, valid till January 30 2012. Just in time, as we’re to going to Cape Town.
This of course had to be commemorated big time. For starters we had spring rolls from Phakalane-China, Guinness, and a dangerous looking icy blue drink. Dessert basically is a synonym for custard, jelly-pudding, or both, so we made both. Saturday Bram managed to get fresh bread-rolls and almost fresh Danish. Which called for an extra board meeting. Sunday the party went on with fried eggs for breakfast, and pancakes for dinner. And still we haven’t partied enough to express how happy we are!
Not-our-dogs Princess-who’s-real-name-is-Mosadi and her two remaining sons enjoyed their extra dog chunks and banana-flavoured Morvite. Eating that pap is their favour to Bram, who bought a big package of this new taste, but hates it. Giving it to the neighbour’s dogs allows him to go back to the Morvite Original. According to Bashi this sorghum-pap with a lot of added goodies like vitamins is a must for the miners.

WWS 12

Where We Sleep 12: one of the (fairly) new chalets in the Khama Rhino Sanctuary.
We planned to camp, but as it started to rain, and we had a lot of work to do, they offered us a chalet. Camping is much nicer (and more bug-free), but having power and a table under a roof allowed us to stomach our first fact-finding day at Serowe Printers Coop Society and prepare for the second day.
In between we tested the KRS vehicle-stickers (new design) we brought form Gabs on one of de safari-cars. Can’t wait to drive around in one of ‘our’ KRS-cars to take pictures for their event-stand.
This stay we didn’t find time for a game-drive. To make up some kudus strolled by when Maud had her morning coffee. Hearing her say to Bram ‘look, kudu’ a curious female turned around, walked back and stared at us. Imagine this as your place to stay on a business trip!

Busy...

This poor blog is being neglected. As are Maud’s e-mails. We experience so much – and that’s why she can’t find time to write.
After X-mass business was to be really slow, but we got this unexpected assignment, on top of the jobs we already had, while social life and the house keep us occupied also. Although the house is perfectly fit to live in, there’re all this minor and major improvements to make. And social events keep popping up like weed.
Last week we were in Serowe for a consultancy on the Serowe Printers Coop Society. Friday we franticly started writing our report.
As usual we stayed in the Khama Rhino Sanctuary Trust near Serowe, which, also as usual, brought us more jobs for this wondrous game-park. Even the animals love it too much. Manager Moremi: “I don’t know what it is with our rhino’s, they’re breeding like rats.” The main thing this time is designing their stand for a big tourism-conference (including making pictures). The KRST-jobs are by far our nicest, as is the payment: staying there whenever for free.
We pitch for another interesting job, the identity programme of the Botswana Government Environmental Protection Support Programme.
Meanwhile we have to prepare for Cape Town. We leave February 15 and return around March 3 (use our RSA-phone-numbers during that period). This trip will be a mixture of pleasure (camping & visiting friends) and business (Design Indaba and matchmaking event Dutch-RSA design bureaus).

One

Traditionally birthdays aren’t considered a party-occasion in Botswana, but that is changing. Especially the first B-day should be remembered Big Time. So imagine when it’s a double event...
February 3 Edu Zachary and Tom Uyapo had their First B-day Party at Morwa. Now Dutch people will think turning one, that’s an easy job. You buy some chips, peanuts, sweets, drinks and a cake, and you’re ready. Not in Botswana. Next to the chips etc. you have to ‘organize’ a sheep and a goat. Meaning you buy live animals that have to be turned into seswaa and stew. You just have to have a jumping castle. (Hamish and Bram are designing the XXX-rated adult version.) All in one, it’s a major effort for a major event.
The party was as successful as the amount of stress beforehand; it was a big hit. When the kids got high on lemonade and hotdogs we knew why the jumping castle is a must: otherwise they’ll ransack the house. Do the grown-ups need one also? They seem quite happy, sitting on top of their cool boxes packed with beer and cider.

Moona Mogolo

Moona mogolo meets moona mogolo: two man, well into their 70-ties, exchanging oral history. Maud had a fascinating time listening to LJ and Tom’s granddad Patrick (van Rensburg, see the Wikipedia). LJ has this genuine interest in people, so he got Patrick really talking, and he has very interesting stories himself also.

Funerals

Saturday 05.00 am – jessis, who set the alarm?! Please turn it off! Please - we only fell sound asleep half an hour ago because the neighbours were praying and singing all night! Oh no, that’s why, jump out of bed, get ready, they stopped to bath, that’s what we should do, and make it snappy.
After four deaths within three months when we arrived in the Netherlands last April we thought we wouldn’t have a funeral for a while. But just before X-mass Maud’s grandmother and Moruwe passed away.
Moruwe, who was doing the carpentry in our house (LJ taught him), was our first nearby experience with death in Botswana. It was very sad and at the same time weird. Sad because he was an exceptionally nice, good man, and his wife is pregnant with their first to be born. Weird because what follows is a train of steps everyone knows by hart - except LJ and we. Ever been to a morgue where they pull out one of those drawers you know from B-movies? Out comes the not yet cleaned body of Moruwe, who only has been dead a few hours. The men who are around have to put him in a coffin and carry him into a car. Of you race to the yard (it’s close to 40 degrees and the body is not yet frozen), and than to the funeral parlour. He should be escorted properly, but racing as fast as the car with the body will only bring more deaths.
January we had two funerals in the village: our neighbour and Bashi’s grandfather. As we know now funerals are an important part of social village life.
Saturday 05.30 am: we are ready by the time Jeff and Pelo walk over to our yard. We missed the first part of the funeral service, but are still in time to hear some speeches, prayers and songs, and view the coffin. In an orderly disorderly escort we bring the coffin to the graveyard, where it is lowered into the grave accompanied by more praying and singing. The singing is magnificent. After the men filled up the grave everyone races back to the yard for brunch (it’s not yet 9 am). The week prior we followed the preparations: goats and a cow were slaughtered, and huge piles of bogobe (sorghum-pap) are cooked.
The slaughtering and cooking are only part of the activities. Until the funeral there are daily prayers - an hour of praying and singing in the afternoon, followed by tea, bread and catching up with each other. (The bread is delicious, baked in cast-iron pots in an open fire. Maud found someone who’s going to teach her how to make it.) The men sit together under a tree or tent, and the women stand around the cooking pots or sit in front of the house. Because we are mekgowa (white) we only have to go to the prayers once, but otherwise it’s a weeklong obligation. We even know by heart what food we should buy for the contribution of the mekgowa-families (Jeff & Pelo and we join forces for funerals, and baby-showers).
The last night there is a wake. A solemn happening, although some men see it as an occasion to get very drunk.

Speeches

Hille and Bashi’s grandfather used to share a 6-pack on Sunday-morning.

The Women

The men

Deck: Man at work

Although our yard is huge according to Europeans, we don’t have enough shady spots to loiter. This weekend Bashi and Bram realised the deck our landlord Bester envisioned in front of the house.

Deck: Lady at Leisure

If you have it, use it!

Expotition

December 28 early in the morning our New Years Eve expotition starts: we have to reach Maun the last day of 2006 before midnight, because Klaas organizes a ‘we have food & firecrackers, bring your own booze & chair’-Do in his Cuisine Rouge.
First stop: Serowe & Khama Rhino Sanctuary. Soon after Gabs we discover Arab Contractors is still working on the new road to the north; around the tropic of Capricorn the A1 just sucks. After the usual fatcakes at Kate’s Kitchen in Mahalapye we’re strong enough to reach Serowe and drive around the village to see people. Figures: we’ll camp with Hamish, so it starts to rain big time.
A bit later than predicted because of ‘Spoorloos’ we reach the Rhino’s. It looks as lovely as always – and very, very green, due to the good, early rains this year. At the reserved campsite we find two Maboeroe and writing in the sand: ‘Bram site 5’. 5 is as far away as possible from the Maboeroe-herd that overflowed the park, and has a typical Bowie-camp on it. While we set up camp Jeff & Motushi & co arrive, so it’s time for the first game-drive.
After two days of camping, loitering around the fire and game-spotting we move up north via Laru la Tau. Even without the Bowie-crowd it keeps raining, so it’s green, green, green. On our way to Maun we encounter a flock of vultures. Whatever they ate is totally finished except for a pool of blood. Walking around Maud discovers the only leftover: a cow’s tail.
December 31st we do reach Maun – as ever a weird, intriguing border-town close to the Okavango-delta, inhabited by white safari-organizers, crazy pilots and other people living from the many tourists; refugees from neighbouring countries; and some locals. Wherever the tourist-money goes, it’s not to the community; the yards look very poor.
We manage to survive New Years Eve at la Cuisine Rouge, and party on till January 2nd. Than the we put the Dutch guests on a plane into the delta, and have the old Hilux thoroughly serviced in Pietjes garage.
Time to go back home and try to earn some thebe’s. On our way back we camp in Nata Bird Sanctuary. That’s so lovely we just have to spend an extra night. Driving back to Morwa we discover half of Botswana has to get home after the Xmas-break.

Mo(u)rning after

After a hard night we try to ignore the sunset of the first day of 2007. The night-watches are ever so tired after defending the yard against all these people walking and firecrackers flying around. The people have to recuperate because the party goes on.

WWS 11

Where We Sleep 11: Nata Bird Sanctuary Community Project Camping
Maud camped here in ’89, Bram

WWS 10

Where We Sleep 10: Piet’s place near Maun (Okavango Delta)
Piet, who came to Botswana in ’78 in the same plane as Bram, has built a beautiful house near to Maun. As always we can use his guestroom, and when we drift in with two extra Dutchies, he offers Joost & Christina his attic.
As an extra attraction for Maud there’s not only the 3 Mechelse Shepherds, but also a Chiwawa caught in the body of a huge Ridgeback.

WWS 9

Where We Sleep 9: Laru la Tau near Xhumaga
This camping-spot honours its name: in the morning we discovered ditau-footprints all over the camp. We decided to take a walk in de empty riverbed nearby that is the border to a big national park. We saw some kudu, impala and wildebeest the evening before, so we hoped for more. The many zebra-skeletons we encountered showed this riverbed really is a popular lion-snackbar. That cut our hike short.

WWS 8

Where We Sleep 8: Khama Rhino Sanctuary near Serowe
The first thing to do with guests is to camp in KRS, a beautiful little game-park that concentrates on breeding rhino’s. We started with a small group, just us four and Hamish with his boys, but as Botswana soil is fertile parties tent to grow big time. Motushi decided to join with Tender and baby Tom. Yvonne, getting bored with village-life after studying in bubbling Mafeking, joined also. Hearing his daughter would go camping with all this elderly party-animals Jeff felt he had to stop over on his way from Maun to Morwa (because of all this dangerous men or the party?). Poor Jeff didn’t know he would discover ‘stroepwaffels’ and be as much an addict as Hamish.

WSWU 2

Who Slept With Us 2: Christina & Joost arrived from the Netherlands with stroopwafels, muntendrop, koffie & filtersakkies (future guests, remember this shopping list), and other goodies. Of course we had to show them off to the (other) Dutchman from Morwa, Hille, so we walked over to his bar for an afternoon Saint Louis or two.

Seasons Greetings

X-mas is all around!
The shops are exuberantly decorated.
Those who haven’t left to their home-village by now are seriously considering to wait till after X-mas because travelling is becoming more and more impossible.
Buying building-materials gets equally impossible. It seems like everyone is fighting over the last bags of cement, stones and doorframes, because X-mas is the time to go on with your house.
The goats that survived the many weddings just before X-mas have to beware.
We’re all dreaming of a white Christmas, and if the white is finished, we’ll take red, no ice, please.

Bashi

This master bathroom is mainly build by Bashi, as is the rest of the house. When we hear other people about building in Botswana, we realize without Bashi we would have been lost!

Landlord

Our landlord Bester, all dressed up for his job-interview with the EU, is as happy as we are with the building-results.

Google Earth 2

Being a mining engineer our neighbour Jeff owns a fancy gps, so he could tell us where we are. The coordinates of his plot are:
S 24 degrees 26’ 05.3”
E 026 degrees 04’ 08.4”
The last time he looked at GEarth the pictures were from around 2000, and the place seemed quite uninhabited.

Ours

Double event: Motushi hops over from Serowe, and Pelo’s daughter Yvonne comes back from college in Mafeking. They would sleep at Jeff’s, so our contribution is dinner. This makes us feel really officially settled in: loitering, eating, drinking, talking on our porch!
Yvonne is enjoying vegetables after 3 months of student-food, while her brother Edu Zachary enjoys sleep and daddy Jeff dreams of scouting - minerals of page 3-girls?

WWS 7

Where We Sleep 7: Finally settled in our master bedroom in Morwa.

WWS 6

Where We Sleep, 6th bedroom: Hille’s Sunset Bar in Morwa.
Because the house wasn’t totally ready on December 1st Jetske & Peter offered us two extra nights for free, braai included. When their spoiled rotten guests finally left, because they felt being nearby the building project would put just that extra bit of pressure, the house still was almost, but not enough, ready. Therefore Hille offered us his spacious office behind his Sunset Bar as a roof over our head.
Sounds like a dream come true to some people: living in a bar. It was great we could stay there, and it put a lot of pressure indeed, to our landlord and to the main builder, Bashi, who lives across Sunset and didn’t like it at all that we had to stay there.

WSWU 1

Google Earth

Our view

How to find our Morwa-mansion?
Go to Gaborone and face north. Look for the railroad to the north (direction Mahalapye), left from it is the old tar road up north, and a little more to the left is the A1 highway. Go to the A1, face north and look for the Pakhalane-crossroad (about 10 k’s north of Gaborone). At the right, you should be able to see the Pakhalane Golf Estate: golf-greens, mansions and a small lake. Follow the A1 further north. 14 k’s after Pakhalane there’s a tar crossroad. To the left you should see Bokaa with Bokaa-dam (a lake). Go right instead to enter Morwa. After 2 k’s on this small tar road take a left turn to enter the dirt road up to our house. First try to find Jeff and Pelo’s house: a green roof high up the hill. We’re on the other side of the dirt road a bit down from them. Depending on how recent the Google-pictures are you should see an empty plot, or a grey structure, a white house (2 weeks ago) or an apricot mansion (since yesterday). At night in the incredible starry skies we see the satellite passing about once an hour.

Who’s who

Our mansion

This month the white and the Dutch population of Morwa metropolis ‘our side of the railroad’ tripled. December 1st George moved in, and two days later we followed. Rumour has it that there are at least two whites at ‘the other side’, but this railroad seems to be like the Berlin Wall, so our side don’t know them.
If you enter our side and ask anyone for the Dutchman, people will direct you to Hille. He worked as a teacher all over Botswana and now owns Sunset Bar. Ask for the white man next to the graveyard and you’ll find LJ hailing from Michigan in the US, who is retiring in Morwa from his building company and carpentry workshop. That leaves the white man on the hill, our neighbour Jeff from Minnesota.
In other words: Morwa is a village without street-names or plot-numbers. People find you by your distinctive features. Around our plot for instance live the blind man who used to be a teacher, the old lady who’s plot everyone wants, and the man who works in Orapa.
We’re curious what our distinctive feature will be. The shopping bag, as our Nissan is called in Botswana, the bald white man, the woman who doesn’t allow catapulting at birds, or the empty fishpond?

Guests

Just heard Joost & Christina will be arriving in Gabs 26th of December!!!
They'll leave the Netherlands the day before. We can ask them to deliver snail-mail to us - if you want to send us an X-mas card, e-mail Bram or Maud and we'll mail you their address.

Morwa-view

Can't wait to sit on the porch and enjoy village-life!!!

Morwa-mansion

Almost finished...

Snack bar

… where the food moves so fast you don’t even see it.

Free Voice

We spend a lekker evening with the Dutch Free voice-delegation (www.freevoice.nl). They were in town for a series of meetings with Samdef, and grabbed the opportunity to see their PAC-member in exile Maud.
How could we sit outside and relax when we should be in front of a satellite tele, waiting for the Dutch election results? Thanks to the sms-service of our FV-chairman of the board.

Mo(u)rning after

A dop klippies with coke & ice might make one feel better.

Ditonkey

The most important means of transport in Mabutsane.

Heavy Traffic

Rush hour in Mabutsane

Mabutsane

The wheel is still spinning but the hamster has left.
That about sums up our abfab outing to Mabutsane.
Thursday afternoon Lans phoned and asked if we felt like joining him to Mabutsane – a combination of visiting his girlfriend and seeing a potential client. After record packing and quick last minute shopping we were on our way into the Kalahari. Why so hasty? You don’t want to drive that road in the dark, because it will be quite impossible to miss all the cows, goats and donkeys; they also like to travel via tar.
Mabutsane is a small Kalahari-village with a huge government building because it has a district-function. Melissa works as a Peace Corps volunteer in a hiv/aids-project.
The first evening we decided to keep it mellow – just get beers, an ice-block to keep them cool and firewood to keep us warm. To get Melissa accustomed to the Dutchies the men made kroketten. It’s so fokken marvellous, these Kalahari-nights: the air gets cold but the sand is still hot, and in the total darkness you look right into the Milky Way.
Getting awake was a bit of a struggle, but we managed to drag ourselves into some clothes and over to the Cool Joint to sit under a tree. The trick is not to move except for sipping your drink. The wheels were spinning nicely, but our hamsters took the morning off. Around lunchtime they came back so we could whip up an omelette and start working on the biltong-project. That evening we were supposed to have a braai with the Afrikaner boer who wants to sell big quantities of biltong (dried beef). Lans is doing the marketing and we pitch for designing the packaging that must be a hit in the tourist-industry.
The evening started a bit confused. Our boer got stuck in Zeerust and we decided to create a salad and have another bonfire evening. The boys went out to get beers and firewood – and didn’t come back. We figured they got stuck in a bar too. Antoinet phoned to tell she refused to sell them firewood because she wanted to braai anyway. And yes, our men got stuck in a bar too; she could see the car in front of the Cool Joint. Which isn’t as far as Zeerust, so accompanied by Antoinet's dog, which joined them in the bar, they managed to fetch us girls. By the way, who’s that white man that bought all the Amstels in Mabutsane?
It’s exactly like Holland: say ‘let’s bbq’ and men who refuse to enter a kitchen ever suddenly are zillion-star cooks. After an excellent braai and party night we ended up in our hot home sand again for one last cigarette and iced klippies & coke. And another. And another. These stars do that to you, you simple can’t go to sleep when there’s something so wondrous to see.
Due to his head start in the bar Bram went to bed after the first last. A brilliant idea, we discovered the next morning, when he was the only one whose hamster wasn’t on strike. He managed to get us safely back to Gabs, and is now sound asleep with a cat on his legs and a dog at his side.

Hard life

Mister A. keeps on swinging while he’s suffering in the bush.

WWS 4

Where We Sleep: fourth stop, Peter’s Place in Gaborone.
One of the things to do when back in Gabs is to visit the Dutch consulate and greet Mien, who runs the place. She tipped us about Peter’s Place, which we loved at first site. It’s run by Peter and Jetske. For the Dutchies: yes, Jetske’s parents emigrated from Groningen to South Africa in the 50's. Maud’s happy to be able to practice her Afrikaans and borrow books!

Dovepost

Beware!!! Our doves will be flying in soon!!!
Mossie & Bram are all set to start their wedrenduiwe-postcompany.

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...