I slept through the usual morning alarms of goats, chooks and children, emerging only at 7.20 am. My body knew that it was Saturday and that I could sleep in. Not so Keith’s body, which is always up and about, whatever the day. Rosie and Ticha were still disturbed about the baptism, but felt compelled to fall in with the requirements laid down by the priest. Ticha went across to the Mission to hand in a note with the new name on it. The family was on to the job of alcohol production, with many large pans of red sorgum and water bubbling away and being stirred on the fires. The next stage involved putting the thick mixture into many buckets and constantly scooping it about with half gourds, to hasten cooling. After that, it was placed indoors where it started to ferment. It was amazing how quickly the cooled mixture started to heave and bubble, with a creamy froth covering the top.
A few days previously, Pius and Fredy’s mother had come over to discuss the future with Rosie and Ticha, and this morning we were heading for a rock art site and would be able to call in on her on the way. Luckily everyone is looking at future needs, and not at past happenings, so the pleasant meetings on both occasions have enabled consideration be given to everyone’s needs to keep in touch after the boys move to Australia and how to continue to be part of the boys’ lives. It was very touching to see the older boys with their little brother, Henry, and some beautiful family photos were taken. Some were of the combined families – the reality for Fredy and Pius and now very much a part of Rosie’s and her children’s world too. It was only a pity that Ticha was not there.
Our convoy of escorts of all the older boys and Hawa broke up, with only Hawa, Jarvah, Keith, Rosie and me continuing on to see the rock paintings. The others stayed to visit longer, and Sebi, was induced to stay by having a packet of biscuits to share out and eat.We had not been able to contact Ticha’s uncle Bruno, who lived on a farm about five kilometres out of town, on which the rock paintings are found, and so we had set off on spec.
The main water pump is situated just beyond Pius and Freddy’s mother’s house, so we inspected it and the derelict animal drinking tanks that it would have once fed. Maintenance must be a nightmare here, with the wet season and erosion and animal and human agents causing problems.
We had not continued far when we met a man also going to see Uncle Bruno, and so we walked along together. Bruno was on his way to the village to attend a meeting, as he explained when we met under an enormous baobab tree. It was not possible for us to go to the site alone, and no-one was at home, so we stopped to taste baobab fruit before we retraced our steps. At this time of the year, the baobab is showing its trunk and branch structures to best effect. Not unlike an old elephant, the trunk is usually a bulbous shape and the branches can be quite wall-like and look as if their bark is draped, flabby skin. The circumference of the trunk can be many metres, and some are so wide that they become dwelling places if they are hollow. The branches rapidly decrease in size and multiply in number the further they are from the trunk. This sometimes looks like an inexperienced hairdressing apprentice has been let loose with a crimping iron, since there are many twists and turns before they peter out abruptly. In the wet season they are clothed in leaves. The fruit hang in a furry casing and the ones we tried were about 15 centimetres long, with a mass of white fibres connecting hard seeds. The fibres and the flesh immediately surrounding the seeds are full of Vitamin C, are delicious and are used as lollies and treats. We bashed the outer cases on rocks to reach the fruit, whose taste is a little like passionfruit only sweeter.
Back to collect the other children, we noticed the dispensary where Pius and Freddy’s step-father, the doctor, was seeing a patient. Water was available just below, and donkeys with water containers tied onto them were waiting patiently for the filling up to be completed. The doctor returned, and we talked with him about health issues while Rosie and Mama Freddy organised the children. He has a microscope but it is not in use. I gathered that there would need to additional special training for it to be useful, although we didn’t discuss this in full. Instead a diagnosis is made from careful observation of the symptoms and from a very detailed history of how the illness has manifested itself. The doctor had a lot of experience and knowledge of the diseases that are found here, and could prescribe appropriate medications. I was about to ask about the relationship between the Mission Hospital and the Doctor’s clinic, when suddenly we were off. Like with lots of things, my curiosity had to take second place since we were extended family on a friendly social call, and that role took over as we wished everyone farewell.
The return journey was shorter but more potentially perilous. We followed a bush track beside the water pipeline, where the gaping holes in the termite mounds were possibly harbouring black mambas, known for their potent poison. Prickly plants grabbed at our legs and clothes and the heat of the day stole our energy. The children strode on ahead, Jarvah slept and Sebi was carried by Fredy, who suddenly remembered his precious radio and ran back to get it. Keith dawdled behind taking in everything. It was one of his rare chances to be out and about, and he was keen to learn as much about the environment as possible. A tree at the doctor’s house had been dangerous, not on its own account but because it attracted enormous black wasps with a nasty sting. There were many different species of acacias, most with long thorns, and lots of plants that are deciduous, losing their leaves in the dry season.
It was probably too hot for most self respecting birds to be about, and he didn’t see any. Some broken stones showed where the workers had been gathering rocks for the new house.
The pipeline track brought us out at the makeshift family soccer field above Ticha’s parents’ place, and home again. The older boys were kicking the soccer ball around and, unlike the birds, were racing about at full speed despite the weather.
An old man appeared at the front door with a lovely hand made wooden chair, with thin stems bent into shape to form the seat, back and arms. Keith joked that all it needed was a stubby holder. It was very elegant and Rosie bought it for her father-in-law, Fidelisi. She arranged for a second one to be delivered too.
We had not continued far when we met a man also going to see Uncle Bruno, and so we walked along together. Bruno was on his way to the village to attend a meeting, as he explained when we met under an enormous baobab tree. It was not possible for us to go to the site alone, and no-one was at home, so we stopped to taste baobab fruit before we retraced our steps. At this time of the year, the baobab is showing its trunk and branch structures to best effect. Not unlike an old elephant, the trunk is usually a bulbous shape and the branches can be quite wall-like and look as if their bark is draped, flabby skin. The circumference of the trunk can be many metres, and some are so wide that they become dwelling places if they are hollow. The branches rapidly decrease in size and multiply in number the further they are from the trunk. This sometimes looks like an inexperienced hairdressing apprentice has been let loose with a crimping iron, since there are many twists and turns before they peter out abruptly. In the wet season they are clothed in leaves. The fruit hang in a furry casing and the ones we tried were about 15 centimetres long, with a mass of white fibres connecting hard seeds. The fibres and the flesh immediately surrounding the seeds are full of Vitamin C, are delicious and are used as lollies and treats. We bashed the outer cases on rocks to reach the fruit, whose taste is a little like passionfruit only sweeter.
Back to collect the other children, we noticed the dispensary where Pius and Freddy’s step-father, the doctor, was seeing a patient. Water was available just below, and donkeys with water containers tied onto them were waiting patiently for the filling up to be completed. The doctor returned, and we talked with him about health issues while Rosie and Mama Freddy organised the children. He has a microscope but it is not in use. I gathered that there would need to additional special training for it to be useful, although we didn’t discuss this in full. Instead a diagnosis is made from careful observation of the symptoms and from a very detailed history of how the illness has manifested itself. The doctor had a lot of experience and knowledge of the diseases that are found here, and could prescribe appropriate medications. I was about to ask about the relationship between the Mission Hospital and the Doctor’s clinic, when suddenly we were off. Like with lots of things, my curiosity had to take second place since we were extended family on a friendly social call, and that role took over as we wished everyone farewell.The return journey was shorter but more potentially perilous. We followed a bush track beside the water pipeline, where the gaping holes in the termite mounds were possibly harbouring black mambas, known for their potent poison. Prickly plants grabbed at our legs and clothes and the heat of the day stole our energy. The children strode on ahead, Jarvah slept and Sebi was carried by Fredy, who suddenly remembered his precious radio and ran back to get it. Keith dawdled behind taking in everything. It was one of his rare chances to be out and about, and he was keen to learn as much about the environment as possible. A tree at the doctor’s house had been dangerous, not on its own account but because it attracted enormous black wasps with a nasty sting. There were many different species of acacias, most with long thorns, and lots of plants that are deciduous, losing their leaves in the dry season.
It was probably too hot for most self respecting birds to be about, and he didn’t see any. Some broken stones showed where the workers had been gathering rocks for the new house.The pipeline track brought us out at the makeshift family soccer field above Ticha’s parents’ place, and home again. The older boys were kicking the soccer ball around and, unlike the birds, were racing about at full speed despite the weather.
An old man appeared at the front door with a lovely hand made wooden chair, with thin stems bent into shape to form the seat, back and arms. Keith joked that all it needed was a stubby holder. It was very elegant and Rosie bought it for her father-in-law, Fidelisi. She arranged for a second one to be delivered too.
The bus finally arrived with Mshaka on board, but apart from a brief greeting, the family would have to wait for his visit, since protocol demanded that he stay at the Mission. Alnesti’s daughters, Betty and Resti (Ticha’s nieces), arrived on the bus from their home in a nearby village and their mother, another Mama Rosie (Alnesti’s wife), would come the next day.Keith went to the school to work with Mr Chalala, who would be away for a few days. Rosie and I received our new outfits for the next day and we tried them on. Mine was spectacular, in the sense of being a spectacle, but I liked it and no-one would be able to say that I hadn’t dressed for the occasion. Rosie’s was lovely, and the style and material really suited her. Amazingly, Mama Rosie (the tailor) had been able to complete all the outfits that we four members of the family had asked for only two days before.
Rosie and I helped out collecting water for the tanks. Some people were paid to assist, since water was essential to building the new house as well as for all the household and celebratory needs. Most people carried the buckets on their heads, and seemed to take the weight in their stride, but I found the full buckets very heavy. It was a relief to have a turn with the child minding.
This is the tap that provides water to dozens of families in the Farkwa village. There are also a small number of outlets at other sites. Many people would have to carry their water several hundred metres.
When Mshaka came over, Rosie and Ticha talked to him about their feelings, and about how they wanted Jarvah to be baptised with his own name. There were many baptised children around with names not in the Bible – some with Muslim names, some with names like ‘Good Luck’ and others who were given the names of the days of the week. While Mshaka would be performing the baptism, he was visiting and was not in a position to make changes. It was sad to see Rosie and Ticha so distressed over what should be a joyous occasion for them. Eventually, Rosie rang Father Godi and calmly put the ultimatum that it was Jarvah or nothing. In half an hour she had her answer, Jarvah was in and maybe that name would belong to a saint one day! Common sense and humanity had prevailed.There was a great sound of drums and voices coming from the family fire area and we all went over to listen. Hawa and her cousins, Betty and Resti, were so happy to be together that they were dancing and singing together to Maria’s drumbeat. Keith sat talking to Alnesti, and was perched on one of the new throne-like chairs, an honour bestowed on him by Fidelisi. Rosie and I sat on the ground, as close as the dust allowed, and it was not long before Gracia, and then we, joined in. Keith went off to bed long before Rosie and I had had enough. The dances and songs were repetitive and so it was possible to copy the steps and kind of sing along. The content sounded important but was usually fairly mundane, such as the one about not drinking from water in a well that the monkeys had spoilt. Other times the words were made up, such as in a welcome to us, which a leader introduced and the other singers picked up. The girls sang out, stirred up dust through the many stamped and shuffled moves, and had a ball.
Eventually we left them to it, and their beautiful young voices carried on until long after we were asleep.
The bathroom is outdoors and the bath is a bucket of cold water.
Washing the clothes by hand is a daily job for Rosie.
The strange upside down tree.
The shop down the hill from Rosie's house
These men are cutting branches off a large tree. The wood may be used as firewood but it is more likely to be made into charcoal, which can be sold in the towns.
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