Mo's African Adventure

After a couple of quiet days at Gecko Creek, I was off to Cape Town today (Saturday) for Rhino and Katja’s housewarming party.

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. Although I had planned to set out early to get to Cape Town and do some shopping, it was easy to linger on the porch with Ingrid enjoying our morning coffee. I have decided that Linton and Lisa’s front porch is perhaps the most restful place on earth. For those of you who have seen my picture book from my first trip, the picture on the front cover is the view I look at every morning over my morning coffee. Although I have a special place on the mountain where I love to sit and reflect there is a wonderful tranqility about sitting on L and L’s front porch.

Finally getting up enough ambition to move, I headed out down the N7. It was a beautiful morning and it was a very pleasant drive, stopping along the way at farm stalls and enjoying the beautiful scenery. Somehow I managed to stretch what is normally a two and a half hour drive into about four hours but enjoyed every minute of it.

Arriving in Cape Town I made my way to what Linton had told me was once the largest shopping mall in the southern hemisphere (maybe still is — not sure). It is massive. Two floors, a maze of a floor plan and a shoppers delight. I had left myself shorter for time than I had planned but had one specific errand I really wanted to do. Managed to find the bookstore in the massive mall … and find my way back to the car … and then to Rhino and Katja’s place.

As I arrived at the gated community I announced to the guard the address that I was visiting. I was trying to get directions through the complex from him but was having difficult understanding him. He kept motioning off to the side. Finally I figured out that he wanted me to look where he was pointing and there was Rhino on his bicycle at the gate to meet me. I followed him along to their unit where Katja met me at the door.

It was a lovely get together. About twenty people, all good fun, Rhino’s amazing Chili, good wine, lovely apartment, a beautiful and charming hostess, and, of course … good company.

It’s Wednesday and I am off to spend the day at the “Fee paying school”. It is called “Augsburg Landbougimnasium”. It is a Grade 1 – 12 school with a huge catchment area. There are approximately 550 students here with 150 or so staying in dormitories. The school is specifically geared to agriculture and part of the curriculum here includes operating a working farm.

I began my day here as I had at the no fee school, with a meeting with the Principal. We spent about and hour and a half talking about many of the same things that I had spoken to the other principal about and it was very interesting to hear a different perspective on the same topics.

To send their child to this school, parents must pay approximately 20,000 rand (approx, $3,000) per year. Books and school supplies must be purchased over and above this and all children wear school uniforms. A discussion of the funding mechanism for schools evoked a different response from this principal.

This is a school that is rated a Quintile 4 school so it is deemed to have a more affluent school population. Because of this, they receive significantly lower funding than the no fee school which is only about a mile away on the other side of the town. According to this principal, to send a child to the same school as this if it were located in Paarl, a more afluent area, would cost 40,000 rand (approx. $6,000) because it would then be deemed a Quintile 5 school. Get the picture? It was interesting that the school for less privileged students was happy with their funding while the more afluent school felt it was unfairly penalized.

The discussion of social issues at this school was somewhat different. In post-apartheid South Africa, any child, regardless of colour may attend any school; however, the reality is that it will take some time for a truly blended society to emerge. This school is, for the most part, populated by whites and most of those are Afrikaner (whites of Dutch and European descent rather than English descent). Approximately 10% of the school population is coloured but these are primarily from mixed marriages or fortunate coloured families with a reasonable income. The simple fact that they must pay to attend this school makes it unattainable for the majority of coloureds. There are no black students.

Discipline is very seldom a problem at this school according to the principal, other than the normal childhood mischief. The reason is simple. If children do not toe the line they are invited to leave and attend the “No fee” school down the road. As no white student wants to do that, they quickly shape up.

It was interesting to note that the principal has a fair degree of latitude with school organization and class structure. At this school, class size is limited to 25 – 30 with some classes being as small as 15. He had no compunction about telling me that he often groups underachievers together in a small class while separating the strong academic students into a different class, his philosophy being that the smaller class size allows more individual attention to bring the underachievers up to a more even level and separating the academics allows them to be challenged to their full potential. He was very proud of the fact that last year’s Matric class (grade 12) did very well on their final examinations. The Matric exams are rated on a scale which indicates the post-secondary path that students should take. Out of 68 students, I believe he said that 60 passed with the university rating, 8 with the college rating, and there were no failing grades.

To my absolute delight, when I asked if I might tour the school, the principal linked me up with two Grade 11 students, Sue Ann and Neline, two absolutely beautiful Afrikaner girls. I was immediately struck with the difference in the demeanor of the students at this school as compared to the no fee school. These girls exuded confidence and privilege. They knew they had a future and that there were expectations and responsibilities that they would have to live up to. It’s not that the students at the no fee school were depressed, in fact quite the opposite, but here there was the promise of a future where at the no fee school there was just an air of unquestioning acceptance of their lot in life.

The girls were excited to tell me about school life at Augsburg. All students there must take the mandatory courses of Afrikaans, English, Math or Math Literature (a less advanced Math program) and Life Orientation (life skills, study habits, etc.) In addition to these core subjects they may choose to take Science, Biology, Accounting, Consumer Studies, CAT (computers), Agricultural Economic, Agricultural Technology, and Agricultural Management. Their day starts at 7:45 a.m. and ends at 2:45 p.m.

We began the tour with the common areas of the school. The interior courtyard is where the children enjoy recess, there were several tennis courts, a rugby field and several netball courts. (Netball is similar to basketball except that you cannot move while holding the ball. If you are in possession of the ball you must stand still and there is no jumping to shoot.)

We began touring the classrooms and again, as I entered the room, all the students would rise in unison and greet me in a very polite manner. We concentrated on the primary classes in the morning as they have a shorter school day than the higher grades. They were so excited to engage me and loved hearing about Canada. Most of their questions centered around the snow and the management of it. It was inconceivable to them that we have to “dig out” and traverse through snowdrifts. One little fellow wanted to know how we would get out if the snow was so high that we couldn’t open the door to our house. There was much more of a sense that these students appreciated this exposure, being much more aware obviously that there was a world beyond South Africa.

Still, Geography and History do not appear to be part of their regular curriculum, so much so that they do not even receive instruction on their own history, a fact that I find astounding given the political and social history here. It seems that there is a concerted effort on concentrating on building a new future without dwelling on the past. They are anxious to put the legacy of apartheid behind them and perhaps this influences their philosophy. Still, I am reminded of the adage, “Those who fail to understand history are doomed to repeat it,” and the concept of not exploring the past in the non-judgemental and tolerant environment of a classroom is a little disconcerting to me. But alas, no-one asked me to write their curriculum for them so I will move on!

At break time, I was invited to join the staff for tea. They were most welcoming and I enjoyed speaking with them about their system. We exchanged travel stories and I was again struck by how South Africans (white South Africans that is), despite rather isolated and self-contained beginnings, so often venture out into every part of the world. With very few exceptions, most of the staff had a member of their immediate family who either were living or had lived abroad at some point in time. It was amazing to me how independent these people are. They are extremely self-assured and self-reliant. It is somewhat sad that they found it surprising that I absolutely love this country. Clearly the feedback they receive from the outside world is that we perceive them negatively and shy away from them.

As I explained the two systems of education in Canada (the Public and Catholic systems) they were absolutely shocked that in the public system we do not begin our day with a reading from the bible, as this is a very important part of their daily routine. Religion still clearly plays a huge role in the Afrikaner culture. I was somewhat surprised that despite the Afrikaner culture being strongly patriarchal, the Afrikaner women are very strong. The ones I have met are confident, capable individuals who do not hesitate to state their mind. I get along extremely well with them (surprise, surprise). It is an interesting dynamic and I would love to get a glimps of Afrikaner home life to see how this translates in their relationships.

In the afternoon, I was paired with a different set of students, Marichelle and Terina. Again, two lovey young Afrikaner ladies. As we ventured into the more senior classrooms I was still struck by the level of respect and discipline I saw exhibited there. Absolutely delightful children, or more appropriately, young adults, clearly well equipped to venture out into the world. The math lessons I observed were complex and well taught and beyond my comprehension (Okay! Okay! So Math is not my strong suit.) The science was interesting, practical and very hands-on.

I think I had the most fun observing in the English room as the children were anxious to demonstrate their command of the English language to me. One class even going so far as to sing a song for me in English. Absolutely enchanting! They were fascinated to hear about Canada and when the professor (oh, by the way, many of the teachers at this school have their doctorate) told them that French was our second official language, the can of worms was opened! Now … my limited grasp of Afrikaans (about six sentences) is only marginally surpassed by my knowledge of French but the children were fascinated. They quizzed me unmercifully on how to say things in french and eventually I had to confess to them that my knowledge was somewhat limited. Still, we had great fun and I was able to wow them with the basics.

All instruction at both the no fee school and the fee paying school is given in Afrikaans until Grade 3 when they begin to study English as a Second Language. A particular challenge for the system is assimilating a wide language background into one English curriculum. There are 11 official languages in South Africa and many more tribal ones that are spoken. Language is hugely geographical and here in this rural part of the Western Cape, Afrikaans is spoken almost exclusively as the first language. Having said this, many children speak more than one language and the second may or may not be English. Combining all of these children with such a varying command of the language into one program is challenging but in the resilient way of children, they seem to cope very well and, like the little sponges they are, pick up so much by osmosis.

It seems that just when I feel completely satisfied that I have squeezed every possible moment of wonder and awe from South Africa, she unexpectedly gives me a little more. Something mystical and captivating to cap off my day and today was no exception.

As I travelled the old road home, blissfully content, ruminating on the spectacular day I had had, the most beautiful rainbow appeared among the mountains. Again, another perfect end to a perfect day!

After my amazing day at the school I headed home to Gecko Creek. Because the bridge is still flooded out, I headed out of town on the old, mountain road. Just beyond the town there was a cut-off to the left with a road sign indicating it went into the Cederberg. I remembered that Ingrid had pointed out a road near Algeria, on the other side of the mountain pass from Gecko, and said that it took you to Clanwilliam. I wondered if that was the same road and whether I should take it to find out.

The weather forecast had promised rain for today and the thought occurred to me that deep cloud cover would make the mountain pass back to Gecko impassable. I scanned the horizon and indeed the blue sky was overcast to the south with the cloud cover descending on the top of the mountains. Still, it looked as if the rain was still a ways off and I decided to chance it, hoping I could turn back if the conditions changed.

The road began as many of the other mountain roads do here, rather nondescript. A scar scraped into the side of the mountain with rocks, sand and scrub bush strewn around. Then, as it descended into the valley I began to sense that I was in for a treat. There ahead lay a ribbon of sandy, red soil, snaking along through the base of the valley, safely nestled deep between majestic peaks on both sides. I was happy to see that the road was indeed low in the valley so I continued on, secure in the knowledge that if the weather closed in I would be able to turn around and head back being safely beneath the cloud cover.

Once again I passed beautiful, well organized citrus farms, charming guest cottages and campgrounds and remote mountain dwellings as I travelled along. It was a serene feeling. The road snaked along between the mountains and took me deep along a trench within the mountain range.

I began to scan up ahead hoping to see familiar landmarks that would indicate I was headed in the right direction to Algeria but none were to be seen. The weather was deteriorating slightly but still not to the degree that I was overly concerned. Running into trouble on these remote mountain passes would not be good but I soldiered on.

Just about the time that I was beginning to wonder if I was even on the right road I suddenly crested a hill and intersected the road that runs from Algeria to Gecko. Smug as I was, I must admit to a slight feeling of relief that I was no longer wandering around aimlessly in the heart of the Cederberg.

The weather was still holding and the scenic drive over the mountain pass was uneventful. I was convinced that the most challenging part of my journey was behind me and I would soon be enjoying a cup of Rooibos Tea with Ingrid. But once again, things are seldom that easy in South Africa!

I descended the mountain pass and smiled as I turned into the lane to Gecko. The bottom gate is directly beside the road and encloses the lower pasture. There, standing on the other side of the gate were four cows. The big cows were busy foraging around and not paying much attention but the calf! He was bound, bent and determined that he was coming over to see what was going on.

Without thinking too much about it, I hopped out of the car to go over and open the gate. I stepped inside, and realizing that I would have to navigate the gate without allowing the cows to escape, I began to shoo the cows away. They slowly moved off a little piece and I turned and began to walk back to the gate. I was almost at the gate when I realized that the little calf was heading back to the gate too and I would need to shoo him off again. Once again he scampered away only to follow me back to the gate yet again. By now this game was getting old and I was really looking forward to that cup of tea with Ingrid so I gave it a really concerted effort, running down the lane (in the dress I had worn to visit the school) madly waving my arms above my head and screaming like a banshee.

This time the calf took off toward the group of cows. His speedy retreat raised the interest of one of the other animals and it turned to look at me with a rather intent gaze. Along about that time I began to question the wisdom of my actions. I had assumed that these would be like North American cows; rather benign blobs, easily managed but there was something in the way that brown one was looking at me that gave me pause for thought.

I looked at the group a little more closely and realized my mistake. What I had assumed were a group of three cows and a calf turned out to be two cows, a calf … AND A BLOODY BIG BULL. You can imagine who was doing the running now. Safely on the opposite side of the fence again I sat in the safety of my car and contemplated the situation. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all but after a few minutes the group moved off, obviously having lost interest in the little game. I safely navigated the rest of the drive up the lane and I’m not sure when I have enjoyed a cup of tea more!

Today (Tuesday) is a day I have looked forward to with much anticipation. Today I visited the first of several schools in the area.

Sederberg Primer is a very large school within the town of Clanwilliam. It is what we would refer to as an elementary school, teaching Grades 1 – 9 and it is 100% coloured and black students. It was a fascinating day!

I arrived, as arranged, at 8:30 in the morning and met with the principal. He was an extremely interesting man, 41 years in the education system and passionate about raising the standards and opportunities for coloured and black children.

Before I go on I should say that the things that I will write about here are not to be construed in any way as judgements but rather observations of the similarities and differences between education in Canada and South Africa. These are amazing people who are doing excellent work within the system they are given.

Sederberg Primer is a “no fee” school. That means it is akin to our “Public” system schools. Anyone, black, coloured or white, are free to go there and receive free education. There is no charge for them to attend school. The reality, however, is that no whites attend this school, preferring instead to attend the user pay system of schools. (More about them later as tomorrow I will spend the day in one of them.)

The schools in South Africa are funded based on a five-tier rating of the socio-economic make up of their school population. Sederberg is a “Quintile 2” school which means that its school population is very poor. Almost all of the children there come from
single parent families with absentee fathers. Those fathers that are in the home are often extremely violent and abusive as alcoholism is a very big problem here. Almost all of their parents are unemployed and living on state subsidy. When asked if the social system caused problems in the school, the answer was vehemently “yes.” In South Africa family life is still hugely patriarchal. According to the principal, the absence of a father in the home leaves children without the father figure who is representative of discipline and respect. This, of course, carries over into the classoom.

Having said all of this, parents are very respectful of the education process itself. Parent involvement in education is generally supportive although the principal was quick to point out that he was born and raised in Clanwilliam, he is active in the community and is the church organist, and so personally is respected in the community which helps.

Because of their “low” rating, this school receives excellent funding by South African standards. All of the student’s books and supplies are supplied for them as well as them receiving two meals per day at the school. When asked if he felt the school was adequately funded, the principal responded that, yes, he felt they were very well funded indeed. It is interesting to note that they do not have a library but are very proud of the fact that they are in the process of establishing one. They have just ordered $10,000 worth of books and it is hoped that the library will be up and running by the beginning of the next school year. They do not have computer technology in the classrooms but they do have a computer lab and the children receive periods of instruction there.

The physical building, while aging, was extremely well kept. It was spotlessly clean … and I mean spotless! The floors were shining, there was fresh paint everywhere and obvious pride was evident in the care and upkeep of this building.

Over 1,100 students attend this school, which hardly seems big enough to accomodate nearly that many … and it isn’t. There are 34 teachers here. Do the math. Even if all teachers were in front of students 100% of the time, that means an average pupil to teacher ratio of 33:1. In the Grade 7 class there are 58 students; in the Grade 8 class, 60. That, coupled with the fact that the classrooms are extremely small (for you Blyth PS folks, about the size of our stage) means that they are packed in with barely enough room for the teacher to circulate throughout the class, let alone give them all individual attention.

A discussion of the teaching profession revealed that while teaching is somewhat respected as a profession, the principal felt that they are underpaid. He shared with me that a teacher here makes 14,000 rand ($2,000) per month. Not knowing the standard of living here I must defer to his experience in this matter and believe that it is not particularly high.

From what I could gather (remember that while English is spoken here, it is broken and heavily accented so subject to interpretation) I believe there is a common curriculum throughout South Africa and … there is standardized testing for Grades 3, 6 and 9. (Sound familiar.) Students attend school until grade 12 when they sit for their “Matric”, their High School Diploma.

I was then treated to a tour of the school by the principal. We visited several classrooms and after our discussions about the ramifications of social situations, discipline and lack of respect, I expected to see children behaving much as we would in Canada. Imagine my surprise when, as we entered the classroom, rows of meticulously groomed children, all dressed in school uniforms, sitting attentively in desks, all rose from their seats without direction and addressed the principal in unison with, “Goeie more, Meneer.” (Good morning, sir, with Meneer being a salutation of deep respect reserved for those men held in high regard.) After I was introduced to the class, each class without exception, greeted me with “Goeie more, teacher.” Clearly, their definition of lack of respect and discipline problems is much narrower than ours!

These children were absolutely enchanting! A little shy and reserved initially, the minute you interact with them they absolutely beamed. As soon as the first child receives some attention they all clamour round not wanting to be left out, but always with gentleness and respect. They are very physical children, wanting to touch you on the shoulder or arm, their eyes searching your face trying to see your inner person. I was totally enraptured with them and could easily have bundled them all up in my arms.

Unfortunately, the sad reality for many of these children is that they are doomed to repeat the cycle which they were born into. This is not unique to South Africa as we see the same thing with children in North America, but it is perhaps more poignant here as the standard of living on the social assistance programs is so unimaginably low. With rampant unemployment and little opportunity, it is hard to be hopeful for them. Nevertheless, the staff here are remarkably passionate. They are deeply committed people who genuinely care about these children and who are determined to make a difference in their lives.

Despite my reservations about their future, I am again deeply moved by the joy with which these people live their lives. They are wonderfully open, carefree and loving people who, through no fault of their own, have been born into an impoverished situation. It is truly heartbreaking. The more time one spends here the more one realizes what a complex problem this is. There is no easy fix, no one-size-fits-all solution. In fact, at first glance, I think this is the biggest obstacle they face. There are so many different people here, so many cultures, so many ways of life, so many languages. To bring them all together into a common system means overcoming huge obstacles but this is a remarkably resilient country and so I have to believe that they will figure it out as they go along.

Unfortunately, I would be remiss if I did not mention here that the area of South Africa that I am in is generally regarded as the safest and most tolerant. It is my understanding that the eastern parts of South Africa are very different, still struggling with violence, racism and intolerence. I am told the schools there face even greater challenges and it is easy to imagine why.

What an amazing day! I have a whole new appreciation for the state of privilege we enjoy in Canada and above all, the promise of a future that we are able to offer our children. Something far too easily taken for granted.

Monday was an absolutely spectacular day. The sun was shining and it was mid-20’s. Perfect T-shirt weather. After the last several days of rain the river is running very high with the runoff from the higher altitudes. Sampson, Linton’s hired man, was coming home from the city and phoned for someone to come and pick him up at the road. (Very few workers here have a car nor could they afford to keep them on the road even if they had them. There is rampant unemployment — over 30%. Ingrid tells me that minimum wage is 7.50 rand (just over $1.00) per hour.)

Anyway, when one of the tour guides went to try and get Sampson, the bridge was impassable, even though he had a rugged off-road type vehicle. Ingrid had to tell Sampson to hitchhike back to Citrusdal (about 20 miles) and she would drive the back road to pick him up there. When she returned she said that not only was the bridge impassable but the road was very bad as well.

As they say, curiosity killed the cat, so first thing Monday morning I went down to the bridge to see it for myself. Sure enough, the water was just raging down with the crest being well above the level of even the fenceposts. The top of the cement posts of the bridge were submerged, I would guess, about a foot and a half. It was quite a site.

I puttered around down at the riverbank for quite a while but it was a little bit cold first thing in the morning and there was a very heavy mist hanging over the river. It was clearly a better day to be up above the river where the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.

The day before I had explored a little bit of the old road going north where I was treated to three different animal experiences.

While driving along it was shades of home when a Grey Rhebok bounded across the road just in front of me. This member of the antelope family was about the size of a small Whitetail Deer but had a blockier body type. It was mousey grey in colour with two spiked horns about 6 or 8 inches long, between its ears. Quite a beautiful thing.

Further along the road at the old bridge on the curve, I again encountered the troop of baboons I had seen there before except this time there had to be about 30 of them all over the road. There were males and females as well as young ones and they were quite comfortable slowly moving along the road to give me a good look before they moved into the bush. I had thought seeing half a dozen baboons had been impressive but this was truly amazing.

On my return trip back along the same road, again at the bridge at the curve in the canyon, I looked over to my right and there perched in a bare tree was an African Fish Eagle. At first glance it looked similar to an American Bald Eagle because of its full white head except slightly smaller but a closer look revealed a rust coloured flash along the top of his wings and a full rust coloured breast. An amazing site to see this very regal bird take off and cruise gracefully along the river looking for prey.

I had never been down the old road towards Citrusdal before so I set off to explore it. It proved to be a somewhat less remote road, even housing a very small “Primer” (elementary) school for the worker’s children. These small Primers are similar to our old one-room school houses and I hope to have the opportunity to visit one or two before I leave.

It soon became evident why the town is called Citrusdal. The road was lined on both sides by beautiful citrus farms, mostly oranges but some lemons too. The orange trees are heavily laden now and the harvest is in full swing. I passed many workers walking along the roadside to get to work. The scenery was again amazing. The mist hung like a layer of clouds over the river and I felt as though I was driving along above the clouds.

The animal treat today was a pair of African Sacred Ibis. Beautiful, black and white birds with long downward curving bills.

At Citrusdal I turned left onto the road towards Ceres, heading again deep into the Cederberg Mountains. I meandered past farms and cottages with names such as Waterkloof and Elandskloof, high up over the spectacular mountain pass and over into the next municipality. It never ceases to amaze me here that just when you think you are in the middle of nowhere, you come upon a house, miles and miles from anything.

On my way back, I stopped and had a look round the town of Citrusdal. A very neat little town about the size of Clinton I would guess with a main street which houses the usual assortment of stores and services. I found some of the homes in Citrusdal very attractive and well kept, and all in all I liked this little town very much. I did notice, however, that there seemed to be very few whites in this neck of the woods.

I picked up a few things at the local Spar (grocery store) for supper as it’s my night to cook and headed back to Gecko Creek after another day of spectacular mountain scenery.

Saturday gave me a taste of real winter weather here in South Africa. The rain lashed down accompanied by wild winds that bent over even the mature trees. It was wet and it was cold. In fact, if it had been snowing it would have been exactly like a Huron County snow squall.

South Africans enjoy a wonderful outdoor lifestyle and are not ones to shy away from the elements but even for them it was a tough day. Our friends who were staying in the cabins regaled us with tales of the wind howling through the walls all night and fear of the roof blowing off. We could only imagine what the guests who were staying in the tents were feeling. They probably were preparing for liftoff!

It was a good day to spend indoors and we were content to use the weather as an excuse to laze around. Good conversation and laughter put the day in and Rhino was busy in the lappa cooking from early morning until suppertime. The anticipation was building to see what culinary delight awaited us tonight.

I did venture out during a lull in the weather about mid-day for a quick walk around Elephant Rock. As luck would always have it, when I was at the absolute furthest point from the camp the clouds rolled in again and it began to rain. It wasn’t an overly cold rain so not too uncomfortable; in fact it was somewhat exhilarating. Nevertheless, by the time I got back to the camp the hot shower that I had been reluctant to take in the morning was mighty appealing.

When Rhino called us to the table for supper we were treated to another magnificent feast. The meal he had been labouring over all day is called a potjie. The traditional way to prepare it is all together in one pot (hence the name) but as always Rhino prepared this dish with his own individual flare. Each element was painstakingly prepared separately and then combined in exactly the right manner to meld the flavours perfectly. Both beef and lamb, fennel, beets, (and a few other things that I have forgotten the name of) carefully presented on a bed of rice and augmented with Rhino’s homemade mango and peach chutney. Amazing!

Dessert was equally delightful. Semolina pudding with a compote of fresh berries, elegantly served and garnished. Not too shabby for the wilds of Africa, eh?

Oh! And did I mention the wine …

Friends of Ingrid’s have arrived at Gecko Creek to spend the weekend with us, as has John’s girlfrend Monica who lives in Cape Town. Such warm and wonderful people and such fun! After a lovely afternoon getting acquainted in the lappa, the men began to prepare supper. (Yes! That’s right ladies. We are insanely spoiled by not one but two amazing men here!)

Rhino, originally from Germany but now living here, is a tour guide who takes groups out to explore the wilds of Africa. If any of you are contemplating a visit here let me know and I will put you in touch with him. I have no doubt a tour with him would be an experience to remember. And … he is also a gourmet cook!

Katja is Rhino’s wife. She is also German and met Rhino while taking one of his tours with him. They are newly married and she has recently relocated from Germany to South Africa. She is charming and beautiful and warm and I so much enjoy speaking with her about the challenges of familiarizing oneself to a new place. She is delightful.

John is a Scot, staying here at Gecko for six months to help out and is himself very accomplished in the kitchen. His exploits in the kitchen are surpassed only by his quick wit and zest for life. I say to him all the time that I find it hard to image him returning to the confines of civilized life in the U.K. For him, life is an endless adventure.

Monica is an absolutely stunningly beautiful woman with a warmth and charm even more appealing than her beauty. She envelopes you with a radiance that makes you instantly at ease and her fun-loving nature makes her good company.

Anyway … back to dinner.

Rhino prepared an amazing Eland Steak for us on the braai (B-B-Q … but so much more) and John prepared “root vegetables” for us in potjies (small black pots cooked over the open flame), accompanied by potato salad and the spectacular Merlow-Shiraz from the Cederberg Winery. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, it was followed by Rhino’s amazing Semolina pudding with fresh, marinated strawberries with his secret ingredient (red peppercorns). It was an exquisite meal! And of course, the meal was made all that more enjoyable by the fabulous company.

I know I probably sound like a broken record but you cannot imagine how fabulous these people are. Without exception they have invited me into their world, shared it with me without any expectation or judgement, and have left me changed. It will be very hard to leave them but I will carry them with me always in my heart.

On Friday morning, Ingrid and I again ventured over the mountains, through Uitkykpas and beyond to the amazing Cederberg Winery. The ingenuity of these people to think to start a winery high in the mountains in the middle of nowhere astounds me. I cannot convey to you strongly enough how remote it is here. I cannot even imagine the obstacles they must overcome to simply exist here. Their reward (and our’s too) is award winning wines that have to be experienced to be appreciatd.

Ingrid had phoned ahead and arranged for us to speak with Jaco, the sales manager for the winery. My attempts back in Canada to obtain Cederberg wine have so far been unsuccessful despite a steady stream of emails between Canada, South Africa and American distrbutors but … as most of you who know me know … I can be very persistent and I was determined to find a way.

Jaco was magnificant and we think we have found a way to piggyback an order to Canada that will work. He has given me the contact information I need and it will be one of my first orders of business once I return home.

For me, the sights, sounds, and tastes of an experience carry with them a sentimental value that is unquantifiable. While perhaps some may consider other wines more flavourful, for me to be able to sip Cederberg Chenin Blanc from my Cederberg glasses in my own living room would carry with it all the memories of this amazing place. If there is a way to make it happen I will find it.

Jaco then took us down to the wine cellar for a personal wine tasting. I am sure we sampled at least 10 different wines and his indepth knowledge and love of his craft was evident as he shared the story of each wine with us. I must say that having South African wine and lemon cream biscuits for breakfast was a first for me and the drive back through the treacherous mountain pass seemed much less formidable through the pleasant mellowness that enveloped me.

Thursday morning, Ingrid and I set out to explore the spectacular mountain road into the Cederberg. This gravel road is an experience to say the least! (Lenore you will remember it.)

The road is extremely narrow and the recent rains have left it rutted and corrugated, although Ingrid said it was in not too bad shape comparatively speaking. There are sheer drop offs which allow no margin for error and a mistake would take you plummeting to certain death. The upside, however, is spectacular vistas. Mountainous peaks tower above you while cradling lush valleys nestled secretly away in their midst.

Travelling along through Uitkykpas (“Outlook Pass” or “Lookout Pass”) revealed glistening rocks, shining with water trickling over them from the higher altitudes. A mountain spring nested away at the side of the road provides a natural, pure water source for those inclined to stop. Wild flowers are resplendent, folding out carpets of vibrant colour in the brilliant sunshine, secret treasures that explode in a narrow window of opportunity in this forbidding landscape.

Everywhere there is evidence of the bushfire which swept through this pass several years ago. Blackened rock and boulders cracked by the intense heat lie strewn around. Charred and broken remnants of stands of the rare variety of Ceder trees for which this mountain range was named remind one again of what a formidable envionment this is. To merely exist is an accomplishment in it’s own right. Fire is deeply respected here. Any point of ignition would send fire cascading across the extremely combustible landscape, the mantle of dried grasses and shrubs providing easy fodder for it’s all-consuming appetite. Still, as with all things in nature, fire serves it’s purpose and the scar is rich with the rebirth and promise that follows such devastation.

My experience with mountains is always that they remind me of what insignificant beings we really are. We like to believe that we are in control; that somehow we are masters of our own destiny. For me, the sheer magnitude of mountains reduces me to my rightful place as just a blip on the landscape. While I don’t believe there is anywhere on earth that this is more evident than the majestic Canadian Rocky Mountains which tower in comparison to these mountains, even here in the Cederberg one is humbled at the sheer power and endurance of these bastions against time. What things they have seen through the centuries as they stand as silent sentinels.

Ingrid has just pointed out to me that I did the rand conversion the wrong way round when I was talking about the cost of hospitalization here. If that detail interests you, please feel free to go back and re-read the Clanwilliam Hospital post.

Sorry folks.