As the Stomach Turns (If you can remember which TV programme that line comes from, you’ve scored Brownie points)
Our daily life here in Qolora is not that different to life back in Cape Town, well other than logistics and a few finer details like earth, wind, fire and water. Otherwise life here is pretty similar to being in the concrete jungle. For instance, on washing days my UDD (underarm dingle dangle) flaps around vigorously as I manually spin my very upmarket Sputnik washing machine through its wash and rinse cycle. The makeshift table which develops a life of its own when the Sputnik is in full swing, tries desperately to worm its way down the hill in pursuit of the goats, with me in tow. To stabilize everything, I have to pin the table down with my foot, hold the machine in place with my left hand and spin like mad with the right. I get an upper body workout without having to fork out gym fees. I don’t mind carrying pots of boiling water and traipsing back and forth to the garden tap and in fact I consider myself lucky that I don’t have to hunch over a bucket or make a fire to boil the water.
We also have baking days. How else do you think we get bread? As long as it’s not windy, we can fire up Theo’s “boer maak ‘n plan” oven. He gave a 25 litre thinners drum a facelift by cutting the lid off to become to door which we open or close with a pair of pliers. He rammed a wire rack inside and tada. He makes a fire underneath, adds extra coals on top and our oven is set to go. So long as it’s not too windy so that the coals blow away. On those days Theo cooks pap or flapjacks inside. I’ve even baked biscuits and an end of the month version of lasagne using macaroni and soya in our eye level oven. We save a fortune on oven cleaner!!
The upside of living in our cosy rondavel is that there’s no major housework to do. There is a downside to living in one room though. Being woken up at 3 in the morning by a roving beam of light sweeping across the room similar to a police raid, can be disturbing. When Theo wakes up in the middle of the night he tiptoes to the kitchen corner so as not to wake me and with his head torch on full beam, he scans the shelves looking for ingredients to cook dishes such as curry afval. The first time the swooping lights woke me, I ducked my head under the blankets, fearing the inevitable. We all know the aliens will arrive some day and I thought this was it. The body snatchers were hovered above our hut scanning for my perfect vessel to be beamed up and used for reproduction and probably they’d stick probes with flashing lights up my bum. But then the smell of Theo’s afval wafted up my nostrils and I knew I still had more time on Earth before I was needed elsewhere.
Our rondavel roof is propped up with a centre pole (which is actually off centre) but unfortunately it’s too gnarly to wrap my limber self around for pole dancing. I’d consider climbing it and doing a swan dive onto our wobbly bed if the woodwork was not so rickety. Someone has mounted a ceiling fan (which is not connected to electricity) in the most peculiar way up at the top of said pole. I’m not sure which came first - the fan or the pole but the intriguing device will never serve to cool anyone down. I’m posting a picture of it.
Most days we can collect water down at the garden tap and we’ve run a 40 m cable from across the way for electricity so what can I say, we’re pretty comfortable.
Now I’m off to mix some dugga from mud and water as I’ve seen the mammas doing around here. That’s how you repair a leaking grass roof it seems and ours drips when it rains. Oh well at least we wont have to budget for handyman call out fees.
Lately there are just not enough hours in a day to get to everything but I’m as happy as a tick on a cow.
Our daily life here in Qolora is not that different to life back in Cape Town, well other than logistics and a few finer details like earth, wind, fire and water. Otherwise life here is pretty similar to being in the concrete jungle. For instance, on washing days my UDD (underarm dingle dangle) flaps around vigorously as I manually spin my very upmarket Sputnik washing machine through its wash and rinse cycle. The makeshift table which develops a life of its own when the Sputnik is in full swing, tries desperately to worm its way down the hill in pursuit of the goats, with me in tow. To stabilize everything, I have to pin the table down with my foot, hold the machine in place with my left hand and spin like mad with the right. I get an upper body workout without having to fork out gym fees. I don’t mind carrying pots of boiling water and traipsing back and forth to the garden tap and in fact I consider myself lucky that I don’t have to hunch over a bucket or make a fire to boil the water.
We also have baking days. How else do you think we get bread? As long as it’s not windy, we can fire up Theo’s “boer maak ‘n plan” oven. He gave a 25 litre thinners drum a facelift by cutting the lid off to become to door which we open or close with a pair of pliers. He rammed a wire rack inside and tada. He makes a fire underneath, adds extra coals on top and our oven is set to go. So long as it’s not too windy so that the coals blow away. On those days Theo cooks pap or flapjacks inside. I’ve even baked biscuits and an end of the month version of lasagne using macaroni and soya in our eye level oven. We save a fortune on oven cleaner!!
The upside of living in our cosy rondavel is that there’s no major housework to do. There is a downside to living in one room though. Being woken up at 3 in the morning by a roving beam of light sweeping across the room similar to a police raid, can be disturbing. When Theo wakes up in the middle of the night he tiptoes to the kitchen corner so as not to wake me and with his head torch on full beam, he scans the shelves looking for ingredients to cook dishes such as curry afval. The first time the swooping lights woke me, I ducked my head under the blankets, fearing the inevitable. We all know the aliens will arrive some day and I thought this was it. The body snatchers were hovered above our hut scanning for my perfect vessel to be beamed up and used for reproduction and probably they’d stick probes with flashing lights up my bum. But then the smell of Theo’s afval wafted up my nostrils and I knew I still had more time on Earth before I was needed elsewhere.
Our rondavel roof is propped up with a centre pole (which is actually off centre) but unfortunately it’s too gnarly to wrap my limber self around for pole dancing. I’d consider climbing it and doing a swan dive onto our wobbly bed if the woodwork was not so rickety. Someone has mounted a ceiling fan (which is not connected to electricity) in the most peculiar way up at the top of said pole. I’m not sure which came first - the fan or the pole but the intriguing device will never serve to cool anyone down. I’m posting a picture of it.
Most days we can collect water down at the garden tap and we’ve run a 40 m cable from across the way for electricity so what can I say, we’re pretty comfortable.
Now I’m off to mix some dugga from mud and water as I’ve seen the mammas doing around here. That’s how you repair a leaking grass roof it seems and ours drips when it rains. Oh well at least we wont have to budget for handyman call out fees.
Lately there are just not enough hours in a day to get to everything but I’m as happy as a tick on a cow.
1 comment:
2 comments in 3 years!! dont believe it!! Well Debs I totally love reading your updates, often has me laughing out loud and with what you and Theo are doing now Im so proud of you guys and cant wait to hang out in your new home for a while. You are such an entertaining story teller, keep it coming. Glad you've got the library going full swing, seems when you start something you just need to be a little patient for the word to get out and for the kids to overcome their shyness. They sound wonderful and your work seems to be so fulfilling and full of joy. Go gal! Much love xxx
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