Mountains, mothers, Mkomazana

Mountains, mothers, Mkomazana

October 29, 2008, 9:02 pm
Filed under: South Africa Gardens | Tags: Drakensberg, Lesotho, Sani Pass

After a trip to South Africa I was flummoxed and perturbed to return to a snowy London! Last night’s snow was the first October snow in 70 years – bit of a shock to the system, coming straight from a continent drenched in sunbeams.

Unlike the indefatigable George, co-founder of GardenAfrica, I was not visiting South Africa for GardenAfrica projects but to visit family. As you may remember, it was my mum’s 60th birthday recently and my sister and I named a rose after her. This October visit was to celebrate mum’s birthday – admittedly a few weeks after the fact (at mum’s request – as a teacher she wanted our visit to coincide with her school holidays).

It is always very special returning to South Africa. First and foremost there is the joy of seeing my family. Man, I miss them. Seeing Mum’s face in the arrivals hall was worth 24 hours in (cattle class) transit. Then there is the cocktail of sights and sounds unique to Africa – the African Colada. On leaving the airport I am always jolted by how deeply familiar everything feels and at the same time how utterly alien this country feels compared to London, my adopted home. Men in overalls giving complicated handshakes, the searing sun, the flattened vowels of the accent I used to have and the automatic reflex to lock the car doors from the inside….

Mellors and I arrived at my mum’s house in Johannesburg to the ululating of Rebecca, our long term domestic worker and my ‘second mum’. It has been 2 and a half years since I saw Rebecca so there was much polite questioning after each family member. Plus hugs. Rebecca’s daughter lives on my Mum’s property and between all the women of the household, we are putting her through school to give her the chances Rebecca never had.

Being October the 3 stately Jacaranda trees in mum’s garden were in full bloom and purple flowers carpeted the lawn. We admired the new rose garden formed of 20 cerise “Lyndal Dawn” roses bushes and had a proper colonial sundowner in Mum’s garden while enormous ibises cried hah-di-dah in the tree tops and an ecstatic black Labrador writhed at my feet.

After a couple of nights in the City of Gold, Mellors and I loaded up the 4×4 and – with Mum, Gran and my mum’s best friend on board – we made the 8 hour road trip to the mountains of Kwa Zulu Natal.

Like Tolkien, the early Dutch settlers felt these mountains breathed with dragons and named them the Drakensberg. The locals however call the mountains uKhahlamba or “barrier of spears”. At the top of the mountain range the kingdom of Lesotho – encircled by mountains – has never been invaded. Lesotho’s people managed to repel even the mighty Zulu warrior Chaka, the “black Napoleon” who conquered almost all of southern Africa. They managed this by the simple but ingenious strategy of rolling rocks down the mountain slopes at aspiring invaders.

The 5 of us had hired a mountain cottage for 5 nights and settled in for a beautifully peaceful holiday in a world heritage site. No mobile phone, tv or internet – just lakes, mountain walks, dams splashing with trout and a long list of birds to be ticked off as they were spotted. At Mkomazana Mountain Cottages we saw weavers, kingfishers, a bald ibis, shrike and herons, a malachite sunbird, a jackal buzzard and an eagle. We threw bread into the lake for sleek rainbow trout sporting pink racing stripes.

My mum’s friend nearly stood on a luminous green snake – she froze with one foot in mid-air and the snake froze too, regarding her with equal horror before both parties backed away in relief. We painted, read, walked or swam, depending on mood and ability. We all cooked, played boardgames and drank lovely South African wine. It was thoroughly relaxing.

The highlight of our holiday in the Drakensberg was a trip up the Sani Pass, which was not thoroughly relaxing. The Sani Pass is a “road” (ha!) up a 6,000 foot mountain. It leads to Lesotho, which you will remember is the impenetrable mountain kingdom which no one has ever managed to invade. Think dirt road. Think hairpin bends. Think sheer drops. Think roads climbing at 25 degree angles. Think ravines littered with the carcasses of cars that didn’t make it. Aye carumba. Fortunately we had been forewarned not to drive ourselves, so we hired Rudi, a jovial Afrikaaner as our driver and guide. My 83 year old grandmother gamely sat in the front seat while I quailed in the back. As well as knowing a lot about local flora and fauna, Rudi knew the name of all the bends on the Sani Pass, such as “the whiskey bend” (you need a whiskey after turning this bend) and “the St Peters bend” (more people pray on this bend than they do in church).

See the big beige bit of road in the right foreground of this picture? Yup, the improbably steep one. We drove up that.

The drive up the mountain was actually very interesting. We saw a troop of baboons playing in the valley, photographed the protea, our national flower and we had to pass through a border post as we left South Africa and crossed into Lesotho. After a hair-raising climb our party arrived safely at the top where a very handy pub awaited us.

I was so glad we had booked a driver as I really needed a drink! We enjoyed lunch, a local Maluti beer and the most spectacular views of our lives: mountains in every direction and views for 60 kilometres.

A man from the local village, wearing the traditional blanket

After our meal Rudi drove our family to a Lesotho village. After the steep mountains and valleys we found ourselves on a flat plain, dotted with sheep and traditional dwellings. Rudi took us to the home of a local family. I was very impressed with Rudi and how respecful he was of the people we visited. Without wanting to generalise I have not seen many Afrikaans men treating African women with great respect. Rudi spoke fluent Sotho, knew the names and ages of the children in the family, and taught us the proper way to enter a homestead. We stood at the door and called “ko ko ko ko ko” – knocking and asking permission to enter. Rudi has explained that inside we greet the lady of the house by saying “Dumela Mma” which is Hello Ma’m in Sotho – a polite way to greet a married woman. Elena invited us into her home which is a round thatched dwelling made from stones and clay. It was immaculate inside. We sat around a cooking pot in the centre of the floor and met Tsitso, her ten month old son. Rudi gave us a talk about life in the village.

Boys such as Tsitso live in the village with their parents and play with their friends until the age of 6. From 6 – 12 they go to boarding school at a Roman Catholic mission school many miles away, coming home only for the holidays. From 12 – 18 young men tend the sheep and travel from village to village looking for a wife. At 18 they marry and return to the village to raise a family and care for their aging parents. Rudi said that there are some disadvantages to life in the village. TB and HIV are prevalent and lung diseases do result from living in a dwelling with an open fire and no windows. (Windows are impossible: come winter the temperature can drop to minus 25 degrees Celsius and the wind would tear through the windows.) The nearest schools and clinics are very far away. However there are a lot of good points about life in this village. People own their land and their homes. They don’t pay rent, bonds or mortgages. The cooking pot in the centre of the home touches a network of pebbles beneath the clay floor, providing central heating. There is plentiful lamb and chickens to eat and they can grow carrots, onions, spinach and cabbages. And as Rudi explained, translating Elena, there is an incredible sense of community and family. The concept of family members living in separate countries is bewildering. Parents can rely on any other member of the village for help with childcare. There is no crime.

After our talk, Elena offered us fresh bread, cooked in the cooking pot. It was delicious. We also tasted her home-brewed beer, made of sorghum (maize) . Then she displayed her woven craft work. Rudi had suggested we make a small donation to the family we visited, for the knowledge and hospitality shared. He advised a sum and explained that giving larger tips creates jealousy within the village and fosters dependency (for this reason he also visits a different family in the village every time). However buying crafts is different and our guide had suggested we look over the curios. Mellors and I bought a woven fruit bowl made of rushes and a knitted woollen beanie made of merino wool. The wool is a little bit scratchy but incredibly warm!

Our visit drew to a close and after taking a photograph of the adorable baby, we braced ourselves for the downward journey back down the Sani Pass to South Africa. I was a complete wimp and found the descent even scarier than the climb!

Apparently the view was spectacular but as I had my eyes shut I have to rely on photographs! I was relieved to see the South Africa border post at last.

After a few more days in the Drakensberg we returned to Johannesburg and then a few days ago, Mellors and I boarded our flight to London. As always I am so torn between my two countries and my two selves. I love wide open African spaces, the Southern Cross, the bush and the astonishing natural beauty of South Africa. But I also love my London life, my British husband, the way I walk safely and freely around my neighbourhood, the theatres and galleries and wonderful English media. When I feel torn in two like this I remind myself that I am lucky to have choices. Most women do not have these opportunities. Choices are painful but I am lucky to be able to choose which country to live in. So for now there will be two of me. While my English self catches buses and makes tea, my African self sparkles underneath, like reflections of water on the canopy of an ancient Jacaranda.

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