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.