Site Arrival

Today I arrived at my site.

Yesterday was the day after Christmas, and I came down with another 24 hour bug, this time with puking and diarrhea. Bugger. Luckily I got over it in time for today’s travels to be as painless as could be hoped for.

The day began with frantic packing by all the Trainees. The goal was to be packed up in the Land Cruisers and on our way by 7:00 am. In an Honest-to-God miracle, four of us, all our stuff, and the driver somehow managed to get on the road by 8:00 am. It was like being in a coal mine during an impending implosion; the roof rack was packed 3 feet high over the entire roof, there were bags on laps and the entire back, every nook and cranny, was filled with our crap. You can take the Americans out of America… etc, etc.

Everybody was feeling pretty good about our feat, and then we stopped at the gas-mart to get gas tanks for our stoves. The entire roof rack was unloaded, then reloaded with four, 19 kg propane tanks added. With the stability of an inverted pendulum, we headed out onto highway.

We dropped off Melody first. It took 4-wheel low to crawl up the road (read rock face, not rocky, much of the road was just one big polished hunk of rock) up to her compound. It is a Catholic Mission, but with the seclusion and oddness of the surrounding pine trees and labyrinth of barbed-wire fences looked more like something out of a bad slasher movie set in the Eastern Cascades. We unloaded her stuff, used her toilet (she is one of four volunteers in my group to have a toilet), and I chased away a spider the size of my palm while everybody waited outside. I quickly informed the group that the spider did indeed jump, shoot venom and fling spider-webbing out of it’s front two legs. This may or may not have helped the general arachnophobia that resides in my fellow trainees.

I thought it was funny.

Next was Meg. She was only about an hour away from Melody in private car and had a cool ronda-mansion (rondaval + mansion = ronda-mansion). Black and white checkered floor, great stamped steel, 70’s era white and aqua cabinets, an wardrobe, she is basically living in a thatched-roof diner.

Mike and I were next to be dropped off. We are both in Ha Sefako, the second to last village on the most northerly route to South Africa. We left Meg’s and headed back down south towards the direction we had come. The right turn we took off the main road immediately became a dirt road and we traveled on that for the next hour and a half. That is to say, we are much more secluded than I had thought.

However, the drive in was gorgeous. The closest thing I can compare it to is a slightly smaller, less sheer rock faced Yosemite valley. Out my front door I look at South Africa and a peak that towers maybe 2500’ above me. The Caledon River (more of a creek right now) is just a couple hundred yards away and is the Northwest border between Lesotho and South Africa. The village is quite small, with a small shop, a secondary school and a primary school.

My supervisor met us along the road and got Mike and I both settled in before taking us to meet the Chief, the police and the owners of the local shop. Unfortunately the trip to the shop (or shopong, how I love cognates) culminated in the purchase of 1 liter of coke, which is why I am still awake writing this. I guess one good thing was that on my return from Mike’s house, two women stopped me, asked for a drink of my coke, and proceeded to polish off the last third of it between them. I think I’ll probably hide stuff in bags from now on unless I’m not interested in consuming it.

So, I’m sitting in my living room, a sizeable 15’ x 15’ room with a single school-sized desk in the middle with two plastic chairs typing by candle light. In the corner are a pair of slightly worn rock-climbing shoes (just my size!) and a pair of Birkenstocks that were left by the last occupant. The two windows are covered in curtains that are made up of old dolphin sheets and a single map of Southern Africa adorns the walls. I am sitting in an orange plastic chair, opposed by another orange plastic chair. The other rooms of the house are a kitchen, bedroom (with a firm mattress, my back is overjoyed) and sizeable storeroom.

I have nothing to store.

Big dreams for the new abode include sizeable chunks for acoustic foam and a giant L-shaped couch for the living room. Realistic dreams are going to have to require some research. The road to South Africa is apparently only passable on foot or with four-wheel drive and a death wish. The other volunteer in the area calls it the ‘Trail of Tears.’ Perhaps some paint, an area rug and some pillows to sit on will be good enough. Who knows what my inner-interior decorator will come up with.

In short, I am extremely excited about this site. I have a couple volunteers who live within 15 minutes (Mike is like 4), the scenery is post-card worthy and my supervisor is super cool.

Cheers all, and thanks for reading. Post a comment. It makes my day!

I will try and post pictures soon, the internet connection in Botha-Bothe is lackluster.