Village part uno

Buckle your seatbelts-this is liable to be a small novel. This was an exciting part of my stay here in Botswana, and it was also a very hard part.

No matter what i expected, it was bound to be an eye opener. Susan and I left for Francistown and Marobelo on a beautiful Wednesday morning. The drive was to be about four to five hours long and we were both anxious to get started. part of the trip would be to go into Francistown and see the house where I would stay when I moved to Francistown. The trip itself was a typical Botswana roadtrip, crazy drivers, potholes the size of VWs and stray animals. When we arrived in town, we stopped to get a bite to eat and did some driving around to look at various places. I loved the house-it is really nice and in a good section of town.
By the time we arrived at Mma Khaiza's house, my hostess, it was getting late but we decided to make the trip out to the village anyway. Marobelo is about 45 kilos from Francistown so it was not a late night.
When we arrived, we drove past the village church to the Khaizas plot. Rra Khaiza was waiting for us, along with his son, daughter in law, grandson Kagiso, and a young girl who helped out by the name of Wangu. She would be my housemate.We were a bit shocked to find out that there was electricity in the village, although not everyone had it. i am not disappointed to tell you we had it. We did not however have any running water or inside plumbing. This was more expected.
The next morning I arose late--around 930 and went to the son's house for breakfast. Afterwards Rra Khaiza and i walked through the village and met his mother who is just wonderful. She does not speak any English, and actually spoke Kalanga, another Botswana language. Many of the villagers were Kalanga and since i am just learning setswana, I was a bit nervous.
We also met the Kgosi, the chief of the village and some of his officers. Most villages have a Kgotla, a town meeting place where many decisions are made and even legal disputes are settled.
The village was full of goats, donkeys, cows, chickens and dogs. I realized as I stood before the huts and rondevaals that this was the real deal. The huts are built from mud, and the roofs are thatched by hand.
Meals were usually pap, or cornmeal, and a mixture of vegetables, and sometimes meat, usually chicken or beef. I discovered easily that it is part of the culture to literally fill my plate--I mean there was no plate showing! I also ate with my fingers, using the pap as a dipper and scooping the food. The young girls came around before and after meals to wash our hands.
One of the difficulties for me is not so big--the down time. Because I of my age, I was not given any duties. This was frustrating, although i was also very grateful at times. Someone brought my food, cleaned my dishes, and even brought me the tub and hot water for my bathing. After a few days, i put my foot down gently by getting up early and starting my own fire, heating my own water, and getting my own bath ready. I learned the fine art of bathing from a bucket!
After dinner, several of us hung out together with babies, children, puppies and adults just milling around and laughing together. My language skills or lack of, really got a workout.
I read six books in the first week, and walked a great deal. Everytime we would walk out, tons of children would follow us. I really enjoyed the babes-they were friendly and funny and all the little ones helped me best as they could with my language difficulties.
A word about the climate-it was semi desert---dry, dusty, very warm during the day, and occasionally very very windy. We got water from a village tap, and the conditions were really harsh. I was amazed at how these folks lived on a day to day basis. The birds were glorious, and the skies at night were unforgettable. But night was very very dark, and I was happy for my torch.
One of my favorite parts of the stay were the invitations from different families. I often visited people at night, when I could not even see their faces for lack of light, to sit and drink tea in front of their huts. On the other hand, everyone was so curious about me that I received visitors constantly, including as I was bathing people would talk to me through my window! The children were never shy about coming to see me....sometimes it was still dark when I would hear a cute little voice asking for "Aunty" as he or she opened my door.There was little sense in locking my door--people would bang until I answered.....
Often people would come to take me someplace-a mother's house, something to see, anyplace and would arrive to tell me we are going NOW. I started dressing in very native clothing, skirt or dress with pants underneath, head scarf always, and always had sunscreen. Oh, and bug repellent. I believe I am getting over my fear of spiders, and good thing. Some were huge, and I do mean huge. One evening I heard the puppies carrying on and yelping and went outside to see what the fuss was, only to discover them playing war with a funny looking spider. Turns out it was a rather large scorpion about the length of my hand. I chased the puppies away and avoided that part of the yard just because......
One of the interesting things for me was how people reacted to my color. Most people were very kind and warm, and the children were either absolutely curious and nosy or they were afraid. Some of the children even tried to wipe my color off, as if it were just a coat of paint. As it turns out, i was the first white person many of these children had ever seen. some of the adults were a little hesitant to be friendly, assuming i might not be friendly. When they heard me trying to speak their language, and trying to help with the cooking, many barriers fell, and when I visited folks, it became commonplace for others to come by to invite me the next night.
I must say, i fell in love with these folks. Some things were so frustrating, but other things were joyous and just heart-fulfilling. More later.......