Salvaging our tools and hardware

While I was getting the extra water storage drums out of our storage trailer I realised that water had leaked in and filled all the containers that our tools are kept in.
There were thousands of Rands of tools lying under water.
As well as all of our nails and screws and other hardware.
A real ball ache.
A lot of the water was already tuning a rust colour.
I still haven’t figured out what angle the water was going at to completely fill the inside of closed tool boxes and other storage containers.
But there was no arguing with the facts.
Sonja has taken the kids down to the lodge for most of the day to read in front of the fire and generally chill out a bit.
This suited me perfectly as I needed to salvage all of our tools and equipment.
I have just finished what turned out to be half a day’s work.
There are tools spread out all over the cottage drying, filling every surface.
I basically had to take each and every tool, nail, screw – dry it (with a sacrificed T-Shirt) – spray it with Q-20 (Oil) if it was made of metal – and then laid it out to dry properly.
It took absolute hours to sort through everything.
And I cursed every bloody minute of it.
But now it is done, and as soon as I have filled a last jerry can with rain water, I am off down to the lodge to join Sonja and the kids and warm up in front of the fire.

Our first good rainstorm

We were very badly prepared for our first real rainstorm.
At about 23h00 we were both working on our laptops when we noticed the first few flashes of lightning.
It crossed both of our minds at the same time that we had not had a chance to put up our lightning conductors, and that we were on top of a hill with a metal roof.
I assured Sonja that our beds were the safest place we could be because their wooden legs perfectly insulated us and the children.
Except for Caleb, who because we are a bed short, we have moved to a camping cot that is squeezed into the corning of the kids room.
I took a pair of my rubber slip slops, and another pair of rubber strops (sandals), and put one under each leg of the cot, thereby insulating him as well.
We were a little unsure what to do with the laptops, but unplugged them both from the solar system just in case.
Then the rain came.
Glorious rain to fill up our water tank.
And it came, and it came, and it came.
Gentle falling rain is a beautiful sound to fall asleep to, so romantic, so peaceful. Bliss.
Our thin tin roof, two meters above our heads with no ceiling or insulation was another matter altogether.
It sounded like a cattle stampede, like somebody was firing cannon loads of gravel onto the tin.
No chance of sleep with the storm at its peak.
I dutifully got up and put buckets under our three leaks.
These three quickly multiplied to seven or eight.
Soon we were running out of containers.
There are really only three or four leaks. But the problem is that with enough water, each leak drips down onto a roof beam, which is slanted at 45 degrees, and then runs down the roof beam. At three or four strategic spots, along it course to the outside wall, it forms a little waterfall. So in this way, a single leak can quickly multiply by four or five.
With the rain really falling we also realised that two sets of window frames are very badly sealed. The rain basically pours in through the porous cement above the frame, runs down the inside of the glass, hits the sill, and then runs down onto the floor.
I discovered another really great feature about a mud and dung floors.
They absorb quite a bit of water.
None the less, suitcases and clothes stored on the floor were all hastily moved.
This only left the rain that was hitting us in the face while lying in bed that came from the holes in the wall that had been left for airbricks.
There had been a communication gap on our October visit, because I could see that the building was so porous, and that there was so much air moving through, that the air bricks were redundant, and I asked the guy plastering to make sure he closed them up.
Anyway, they were still here when we arrived, and last night they said hello.
We sacrificed one towel per hole, which was quite a substantial sacrifice as we could only bring two towels each, with us.
We rolled the towels up and stuffed them into the holes and seemed to do the trick.
Finally we drifted off to sleep.
It was now about 1am, and we were both pretty tired. The volume of the rain on the roof made it impossible to fall asleep.
Then, just as it seemed we would manage it, I pointed out to Sonja that Caleb with his gastro, was going to wake two or three times during the night to deal with (hopefully) imminent, but quite possibly historic, explosions.
And if he called us it was highly unlikely that we would hear him.
The rain was that load.
You couldn’t hear yourself speak. You had to shout.
I am all for a married couple shouting in bed and encourage this at every opportunity, but not for straightforward everyday conversation.
So we ferried the two youngest kids into our bed with Sonja, and I went to go and sleep in Mila’s lice infested bed.
At about 2am, Sonja stumbled through in the dark (it was pitch black).
She had lost her torch somewhere in the bed, and the two kids were wriggling and kicking so much she couldn’t sleep.
So back came Caleb.
At that was it until the morning, although I did get up at least three or four times to check that bowls were not overflowing and during the course of the night discovered two new leaks.
The rain was still here in the morning, with no further damage to the inside of the house.
About 48mm of rain had fallen over a seven hour period, which was great for the water situation.
In fact our water tank was over flowing.
So I spent the first hour or two out in the rain.
I plugged up the overflow pipes, and this allowed me to get about another 350 litres in the tank. Then I removed one of the inlet pipes, and replaced it with an elbow that allowed me to extend the height that the water would be stored to.
This really maximises the tank, and it is now full to capacity.
It is over flowing as we speak.
I then emptied three polyprop drums that I had in the trailer. They were being used to store hardware in, and were then going to form part of our new loo.
Anyway, as each holds about 250 litres of water I thought we may as well fill them as well, as 750 litres will give us another 10 to 14 days worth.
I was thinking of clever ways of running extra pipes to the drums, but as the rain was falling so hard, all I had to do was stand each drum, one at a time, under the disconnected inlet pipe, and they filled up pretty quickly.
I have also filled up our jerry cans, and when there is a break in the rain next I will fill our last container, which is about a 75 litre bucket.
If we had another tank we would fill it no problem, so I must check, because I don’t think this happens al that often.
The Eastern Cape id officially experiencing a drought.
Anyway, a sleepless night, but no real harm done. Buckets are still strewn all over the floor and outside it is still belting down. It hasn’t stopped once.
It sometimes slows to a strong drizzle, but it is coming down big time.
As soon as we have dry weather we will prioritize getting the leaks fixed and try and find a way to get the windows sealed.
I also need to put in an overflow pipe to the water tank that will divert extra water to our vegetable garden area, or anywhere away from the house.Oh, and we must work on finding an old AGA stove, or something similar. The lodge has a fire going and it looks so cosy.

Making our first batch of home made bread

My plans to have a taste and cooking extravaganza while we are here, has got off to a really rocky start.
The funeral feast, while very interesting, is the likely cause of me now being on a 5 day course of antibiotics. I think we can safely narrow it down to a combination of raw and filthy cow stomach, and my competitive show off streak.
Then, on about our forth evening here, I went fishing for the first time, and caught a really nice pan sized fish in the lagoon. This in itself was miraculous as I didn’t have any bait and had simply stuck on a hermit crab that I enticed out of its shell.
After gutting and scaling it I popped it into the freezer when I got home, because we were heading off to Mthatha for two days to pick up the girls.
Not wanting to waste it I gave it to our neighbour, Nonezile.
Then a few afternoons ago I had taken the girls for a walk on the rocks at low tide, and without trying picked up three hand sized fresh oysters and a really nice fist sized Alikrickle. I was planning to show the kids how to cook them the next day, and shoved them in the fridge for the night.
Sadly, that was the night I got massively sick, and over the next 48 hours only managed to get down half an apple and a hard boiled egg.
So again, I donated my loot to Nonezile, so as not to waste them.
I had also found some very big Sea Urchins. I have never tasted them and was keen to give them a go, but again, with my gastro, they seemed about as appealing as a Gordon Brown/George Bush/Julius Malema speech. (Take your pick)

Nonezile paid dividends though, because she popped over this morning with some freshly picked mielies (corn) for us. It was great, and looked like nothing you would pick up in one of our supermarkets

So today’s first attempt at baking bread here, was going to be a big deal. It was our first small step towards making our kitchen and larder self sustainable. And it could also include the kids, which would be fun.
Things didn’t get off to a great start.
I read 750 grams of whole wheat flour, and 750 grams of cake flour.
The recipe called for 750 ml of both.
So I basically used the right amount of yeast, salt etc, and twice the amount of flour.
Difficult to remedy when you are up to your elbows in batter and your three year old son is asking you to take him to the loo every seven and a half minutes.
But we soldiered on and we ended up with two pretty reasonable loaves.

I got into trouble with these ladies before I had even started. I got glared at by the Nonezile's chickens who were roosting on top of my lovely pile of fire wood. Sorry girls.

Caleb, who is a real pyromaniac, sick or not, is like a little freaking fire feeding monster. He loves anything with a flame and constantly feeds little pieces of wood to keep it going. Naughty bugger. Just like his dad was.

As the sun was setting and we were all sitting on the logs around the fire waiting for the bead to finish, our neighbours Nonezile and Nosandise, popped past and were very impressed with our efforts. (Or that a man was making bread. A real man)
I wonder what she thinks of our urban adjustments.

For all of the cock up's, the end result wasn't actually too bad.

Extracting our own wild and organic honey

We had an interesting afternoon extracting some fresh and organic honey this afternoon. This was of particular interest to me because bee-keeping will form part of my agricultural project, and I used to work for a bee-keeper in the early 90’s and have been interested in honey production since then.
Dave had previously introduced the village to the possibility of honey production, but for a variety of reasons this had not really worked out.
Today’s very modest yield of just under 20 jars, was a small victory though, as it was the first successful harvest of honey in the village, and the R400 odd Rand that it earned the bee-keeper, will hopefully spur him and others on.

This is a pic of a hive that I had found in September 2008. All the hives I found then were neglected and empty.

I didn’t have my camera with me today, and so unfortunately missed out on some really cool photo’s.
For a small quantity like this Dave and I settled on a primitive, but very high yield system.
We cut the honey-comb directly from the frames, without capping it first, and placed it all in the centre of a clean dish cloth. We then simply twisted up the dish cloth and the tighter we twisted, the more honey we got.
The honey poured freely from the bottom of the dish cloth into a small pot we used to catch it before decanting it into the jars.
The frames weren’t particularly full, but we still managed to get about 4 jars per frame.
The dish cloth was surprisingly effective and I could comfortably press out a frame in three or four minutes if I needed to.
There was also very little wastage, all that remained was a golf ball size piece of wax.
Anyway, it was very rewarding taking the honey from a comb on a frame and ending up with a jar, ready for sale in the lodge.
It was additionally great knowing that the kids were learning from it.
Hopefully this can grow into a little cottage industry when we established how many hives the countryside will sustain.
There are also definitely a lot of wild bees around.
Within about 15 minutes of noticing the first bee, we had hundreds around us while we were working, all from the forest that borders near the lodge.
One of them even decided to commit suicide on my elbow.
I quickly covered the site up with a big smear of honey to stop his mates from doing the same.

Solar System Operating Well

Our new solar system has been installed and running for the past week.
We have been very happy with it and are more than pleased to give Leon, of Energy Efficient Options, in Cape Town a free plug.

www.energyoptions.co.za

Leon took all of our specs, came up with a suggested system, and made everything reasonably easy to install without any special electrical or solar knowledge.

We have three 80 watt panels, three 12 volt 100 amp hour batteries, an inverter and a digital charge regulator. (The digital regulator has been very helpful as it gives you quite a bit of information about the system)

The system has been working really well and is quite adequate for all of our needs.
We comfortably run both our laptops off of it, as well as charging phones and torch batteries.


Dave came up to help me set the system up, which was a great help. Here we are connecting each of the panels.

Once they were connected we assembled the frame and bolted all three panels into their frame.

We haven't mounted this on the roof yet, as it will move to whatever the site of my new office will be. It is simply on the ground facing North, with about a dozem concrete building blocks holding it down against the wind.

It was a simple job to then connect the battery bank, charge regulator, and inverter.

Not the sexiest looking finish, but a couple of grey building blocks and a nicked shelf and the inside part of the unit is complete. We have a piece of shutterply on top of the battery connections to ensure that there is no accidental shorting (conductive objects that get placed there) accross the points.

On a sunny day we will get about 1200 Watts from the system. A really cloudy day like today only gave us around 360 watts

Quite a tough week this one

As it was Saturday, so we decided to try and spend some time today relaxing and doing something with the kids. We were all getting a bit of cabin fever as the weather had been pretty miserable, and too many of us were sick.
I prescribed myself antibiotics this morning after five or six days of the worst gastro imaginable. So I have been pretty useless. Standing up makes me want to rush off to the loo and a simple 5 minute chore requires me to sit down at least 3 or 4 times to allow the waves of gastro to pass. Very unpleasant. It has also made me pretty useless in helping Sonja. But you can’t do anything about it. You either sit down, or you mess your pants. Simple.
Then the night before last Caleb suddenly got really bad gastro and was running a fever on about 40 degrees Celsius. We called though to the nearest district hospital, which is about an hour and a half away over pretty bad roads. The game plan was to keep him below 40 degrees, and keep him hydrated. If he went over 40, or started vomiting together with the gastro we were to bring him through.
So we spent an anxious night doing all we could to get his temperature down. We had a bowl of water we kept wiping him with and wetting his neck and hair. We had two ice packs in the deep-freeze that we wrapped in dish clothes and put against the front and back of his chest, and we had some of those home made ice lollies in the freezer that you make by freezing juice, which we kept getting him to eat. This worked well as he saw it as a treat, it helped get his core temperature down, and it helped re-hydrate him. It was a long night let me tell you. He was feverish all through yesterday, and then yesterday evening, just at sunset, his fever finally broke.
On top of this Sonja has been battling two deadlines, so she has really been under pressure.
So the miserable weather and two days of strong wind making everything unpleasant were the capping on a tough week.
Today was going to be chill out day (or at least semi chill out)
Things started badly with a quick spring clean turning into a two hour ordeal of crying, whining kids, and short tempered parents.
When we finally got to the forest area, with our packed snacks and drinks, (and lets not forget the ant collecting jar to get ants to house the new ant farm) Caleb was crying and in need of the loo, the Skye had rubbed up against poison ivy, and was very vocally unhappy, and Mila was getting upset because we still hadn’t found her any ants for her ant colony. Bloody hell.
Me needing to squat urgently behind a tree was the last straw, for both Sonja and I.
We managed to wrestle three log seats back to the bakkie and then headed back to the cottage.
As quickly as we could.

When we got back to the cottage, Mila and Caleb seemed happy, and we thought Caleb should get some rest, so I walked down with Skye to have a swim and do some exploring.

She had a really educational and fun time. We helped extract some freshly harvested honey, she spent about an hour with a woman at the lodge sewing garments on an old hand turned sewing machine, we had a great swim and an explore, and then in the late afternoon we made our first batch of bread.

The idea is to try and relax a bit more tomorrow, Sunday, and then get stuck in again Monday morning.

10th Feb - Happy birthday Mila!

Mila opening her birthday presents.


















Mila's birthday cake - beautifully decorated by Mila and Skye.....









Birthday party at the Lodge.

A quick thanks

There is no way to properly thank everybody for all of their help with us getting here.

Well, I'm sure there actaully is, but I am not well, (poor soldier), and this way will be quicker and easier, and will be just enough to ease my concience.


The person who lent us his trailer.
The good news is you cannot see any rust any more.
It is all covered in mud.
I never thought we would get the trailer up to our actual cottage, bearing in mind that the last 3 kilometersis 4 x 4 only. But we did.
With only one jack-knife, one unpack of the entire trailer to get it over a bad stretch, and we only had to jack it up once when we were stuck really deeply.
It makes a perfect extra storage area outside covered by its tarp.
I put 300 bar in the tyres on the way up, and they still looked like they had puncture. Might have been a bit heavily loaded.
Thanks.
And thanks for driving it through for us the day before we left.


The fridge. This poor thing has been banged and bashed around and I was sure it would not work anymore.
It does. Beautifully.
It is something we would not be able to do without.
Thank you to the person who donated it.
Thank you to the person who serviced and delivered it.
It still has a sticker of a smiling banana on the front door.
It is connected to the gas supply with a gardena garden hosepipe fitting.
Works like a bomb.


Thanks for the shelves guys.
They are lifesavers.
We have set a new world record for what we can store in a very limited amount of space.


The oil lanterns and the hand made curtains look fantastic and were the first things up.
We haven't forgotten the promise of a painting, and are keeping a spot clear above our bed on the wall.


For the record, the Penn reel was droken before I got it.
I will fix it and catch a lot of fish with it.
Engraving you rname in the steel was clever.
But seeing as we share the same surname, I think my metal file and sandpaper could do the business and file off the first name.
Haven't figured out have to engrave my name in its place, but will put google to the test.


For all the people who donated clothes, plastic chairs, tables and toys for the early learning centre. Thank you. I thought of you all while I was packing and unpacking.


Thanks for the pump, dude.
Hope to dig down to a spring and put it to the test.


And for keeping the girls occupied for our first week and setting a precedent with the home schooling. Thanks to you both.

Over and out.

Damn you Imodium - why won't you work.

I rushed outside last night in gumboots, a t-shirt and a towel wrapped around my waist. It was 2am and raining. I got about 50 meters away from the house and then dug furiously.
It was a sexy sight I'll bet.
The new dog followed me down and lay staring through the entire episode with its head resting on its paws.
Unnerving, but at least there was a trace of sympathy in the canine eyes.
I am getting no sympathy from Sonja on the other hand. Apparently my cramps are not comparable to child birth. (Says who?), and besides which, if I want to show off and eat raw cows stomach crawling with salmonella, Ecolli, and heaven knows what else, picked clean with somebodies dirty fingers, and left in the sun for 5 hours - well then, my stomach complaints are my own problem.

Whatever happened to "for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health"
I thought it was a sacred vow.

The look in her eyes says it all. Her mouth says "shame my love". Her eyes say, toughen up and get with the program.

Wimp.

My basic strategy is to soldier (bravely) on. (sort of sullenly)
And every now and again let everybody know just how terrible I feel with a load groan, which generally gets ignored.

I will not eat cows stomach again. Well, not unless it is cleaned properly and cooked in some way.

I have rented an "office" from a neighbour for R300 per month. It is a small room, about 3 x 4 meters, but I at least now have some sort of work area.

Besides squeezing in a days work, today's tasks involve spending an hour with Skye (aged 8 and eleven twelfths. I'm not nine yet dad!)
I am in charge of home schooling her in Literacy and Natural Science.
Poor kid.
She knows a lot of swear words from hanging around with her dad.
Amazingly she doesn't use any of them. Instead, two seconds after hitting my index finger full on with a hammer (no kidding) - she chastises me for swearing.
Nice. A living, talking conscience. I now have four.
I am trying to remind myself why we decided to raise free thinking and outspoken children.
If you have young children, - go the Victorian route.

My other tasks involve putting up two hanging areas for clothes.
This involves finding two pieces of long driftwood, that are narrow enough for a clothes hanger to hang from, and then suspending them from the rafters.
Voila - two cupboards for hanging clothes.

The rafters are well used.
I lashed four branches of driftwood together in a big rectangle and suspended this above our kitchen area. All the pots and pans now hang from this.
We also have bags of onions, potatoes, and oranges hanging in the kitchen area, fly paper hanging in all the rooms, and of course oil lanterns.

After lunch I will take the kids down in the bakkie (pick-up) to collect some bigger logs from the beach to make seating for around our outside cooking area. I have also spotted a really heavy, chunky piece of driftwood, that seems to be a hard wood, that I want to bring up to use as a chopping block for our fire wood.

Later in the afternoon we will make some home made bread on our outdoor fireplace.
When we make the fire for this we will also burn all the rubbish that we can (paper, board etc)
When we have our garden and composting system set up we will be able to use this here, rather than burn it.

That leaves the last two tasks which are fixing up a low coffee table for us to eat on inside, and putting up the last of the guttering along the one side of the house. Until that is up we are losing about 30% of our collection potential.

Great. A sudden pang, a sharp cramp, and that is me off down the hill.
A four hundred meter scramble (book in hand) with a pained expression on my face.

Brave little soldier.
I wish it was only birthing pain.

The Funeral Feast

The cows stomach looked very familiar. I had actually never seen the stomach of a cow before, so I definitely recognized this one. The last time I had seen it a young man from the village was emptying it of chewed cud. Not rinsing it. Not washing it. Using his fingers to pick out 80 percent of the cud. The entire thing folded up on itself like a rubbery blanket, creamy in colour, with a vague green tinge that was the cut. And the surface isn't smooth. It is covered by rubbery little protrutions, each about the thickness and size of a match head.
The man next to me cut off a piece as big as his tongue and chewed it happily.
Well, this is what we came for, so I followed suit.
Man, it tasted terrible. It was rubbery, and grizzly and tasted just like the cud it had held a few hours earlier. And bitter. Very, terribly, disgsutingly bitter.
And the texture made it even worse. You couldn't crunch it down, or swallow it whole. This needed work, it needed chewing. A lot of chewing. Flavour releasing chewing.
When I finally swallowed it I was asked how it was.
"Terrible" I answered, "bitter and disgusting"
This was sign language everyone understood. Much laughter.
Then, just to save face and keep up my side, I cut off another piece and repeated the whole procedure. This was "pudding", and there were two courses still to come.

After the funeral ceremony had ended, the food was brought in. The women and young men formed a line from the giant black cooking pots, and each plate was passed from hand to hand, until it reached a lap.

You were expected to have your own clasp knife, and there were some spoons to share out when required.

The first plate arrived. I thought it was the only one, so made the mistake of eating it all. I was pretty full. Take a metal plate. Fill half with rice, and half with a samp & mielie mix. Build up a bed about as thick as your thumb. Then ladle on some stewed meat, two or three chunks. Then, take a coffee mug of warm animal fat and pour it over everything. This wasn't too bad if you drained off most of the fat. I had some mutton and beef. Nothing scary. The man next to me had what looked like a thick white piece of rubber on his plate. I asked where this was from and he indicated the back of the neck. I assumed it was a tendon of some sort. Anyway, I tried this and it tasted just like it looked.

This was followed by a steaming cup of tea and a doorstopper of Xhosa bread. Women would arrive out of teh talking, laughing jostling crowd and drop plates on your lap. Dogs were trying their luck and every now and then, through the noise, you would hear a yelp as one took too big a liberty.

Once the tea was finished, a man came around and placed branches of leaves at our feet. About a bunch for a group of four of five men. You all formed a rough circle around this. This was the plate for your next course. Another man came past and piled raw meat onto the leaves. We got some liver, intestines, and strips of steak. The youngster amonst the group then took this off to braai (BBQ).

While he was gone, another man came past and put a large metal plate at our feet with more cuts of meat. This was actaully the best tasting of the lot. It had stewed for far longer and the meat was much more tender. I was so full though I didn't really enjoy it. I was just surviving. making sure I kept up with the rest.

You basically reached down, grabbed a big bit of meat in your hands, and cut pieces off with your clasp knife and put directly into your mouth.

Just as I finished this, and thought I could do no more, the raw meat returned having been braaied. It was very over done. Very. Anyway, amonst lots of back slapping and instructions to "eat" "eat" I set to. The liver was pretty good. The intestine was completly crap. It was white on the outside, and about the size of a pork sausage. Inside was a different story. It had runny, cooked shit in it. Literally. It tasted and smelled pretty bad, I won't lie. But I fought through it to much laughter and smirking.

That is when the stomach arrived.

But there was more to come. The stomach was followed by three of four big bones being dropped onto out plate of leaves. We hacked off what meat was visible and then the bones were cracked open and yellow morrow ladled out with the flat of your knife.

I was so overloaded by this stage. Buut this meat was the most rubbery of all, and each mouthfull had a fine grating of course pieces of bone that you had to spit out afterwards.

I finally said no to the half litre of sour porridge that was the last course.

I burped cows stomache for about two days.

Burying the coffin

We then all washed ourselves and cleaned up from the cutting up of the meat, we headed through the mielie fields and back to the gravesite to continue digging. When I arrived the Incubator vehicle was just leaving having dropped the coffin at the gravesite.
This was a much more sombre affair than the day before.
The men again each took a turn at digging. But this time there was no banter or teasing like there had been the day before. The starkness of the coffin, right there, only meters away, was like a mirror refelcting yor realities and fears. About your own tangibility, and that of you rown children. And yet, standing there looking around me at these men of various ages who had all grown up together, I became aware that they all shared an incredible sense of belonging, of family, of tribe. To me there was an strong sense of bonded togetherness that I have never seen before. There was such a strong sense of community, that as an outsider was so apparent to me.
Looking over at the small white coffin, it was as though they were all here to look after on of their own. To make sure his journey was completed. Thye had all taken the time to come and do this, knowing that it would be done for them when it was their turn.
And even for the child's family, it was not something they had to face alone. They were surrounded by such a strong sense of community, they were central to their entire communities focus.

Once the grave was deep enough, a maternal uncle of the young boy opened the coffin and showed his face to two elders. They then gently covered his face, first with what looked like a white paper towel, and then they gently closed a blanket over his face and reclosed the coffin.
On of the elders then spoke for a few minutes, but I was unable to understand what they were saying.

Once the coffin was laid in the grave a bag was brought forward with the child’s sleeping mat, blanket and a full set of clothes. The sleeping mat and the blanket were gently spread over the coffin, and then each item of clothing was sliced with a knife, and then placed alongside the coffin. On top of this lengths of wood were laid to form a covering to protect them all from the earth.

Then all of the men helped shovel in the soil until all that remained was a mound of earth indicating the grave. While the last of the soil was being shovelled in the child’s shoes and belt were also cut and thrown into the grave.

Into the mound they planted several aloes to indicate the site of the grave to community members who were not present and who might like to visit the grave at a future date.

While all this was happening the women were gathered in two groups and sat about 50 meters way up hill on the grass. They never spoke or made any sound that I was aware of from where I was standing. They were dressed colourfully, wrapped in blankets and with their heads wrapped in scarves.

The men then left the gravesite and moved up the hill past the women and back towards the marquee where the funeral service and feast would take place. We all filed back into the tent where we washed our hands and had tea and a thick doorstopper of Xhosa bread.

Funeral Second Day - Butchering the cow and the sheep

The next morning, just as I was about to leave the cottage to get to the grave site to finish digging, there was a knock on the door. It was another one of the men from the village who through sign language indicated that I should come with him as they were slaughtering a cow for the funeral feast. Unfortunately I arrived there just after the cow had been killed. I was really interested to see how it was done as Dave had told me that the villagers stabbed the cow at a spot on its spine just behind the head and that the cow simply collapsed without any noise or stress.

This really interested me as I do eat meat, and my decision to do so is based on five points:
How the animal lived (in this case the cow lived very happily and roamed freely and did all the things cows are meant to do)
How the animal died (quickly, humanely, painlessly and stress free – and close to where it lived, avoiding three days on a cattle truck without food and water)
How organic the animal is (that my meat is not pumped full of chemicals)
To minimise and eliminate any waste (eat everything, or give to somebody who will)
Never take more than you need (when fishing or foraging never take more than you need to)
So my idea is to acknowledge that I do eat meat, fish, eggs, dairy (and wear leather), then the least I can do is to try and follow some sort of humane guidelines. The five above are what I have set for myself, and I try to follow them wherever possible.

A sixth point would be – Never, ever eat McDonald's or KFC or anything similar.

Anyway, back to my morning.
When I arrived the cow was already dead. The deal was as follows:
Lie the cow on its back on the grass.
Skin it so that the skin forms a carpet under the carcass.
On the ground alongside the carcass place a sheet of corrugated metal roofing.
Cut of the legs and pass them to your friends who are waiting to cut the meat into pieces.
Slice off as much meat as you can until you are left with the sealed body cavity inside the ribs and the spine.
Use an axe to cut through the ribs.
Open the body cavity and extract everything, right down to the gall bladder, the intestines and the stomach.
Wash nothing.
Pick out shit and cud with your fingers till moderately clean.

After the cow we butchered a sheep. Here I was on more solid footing as I have killed my fair share of sheep when I worked for a sheep shearing team in Australia. I managed to get involved here and actually get my hands bloodied.

As before it felt appropriate to me to at least be prepared to kill whatever it is I was planning on eating.

Day one of the Funeral

I have so much to write and need to find time this evening to get things down. What a change in mindset and culture. We have had an incredibly full few days as Sonja has mentioned. I am not sure quite where to start.
Maybe with the very sad picture of a father crying. For about 10 minutes he was sitting two chairs away from me at his sons funeral, before he went to sit with the family at the front of the gathering. But while he was next to me I noticed he was simply leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face resting on his hands. And he was quietly crying.
At that moment my heart broke and really went out to this man whose name I don't even know.
Until then being part of the whole funeral had been interesting and I had been observing it like one would a documentary. But suddenly it was real. And this man was weeping quietly next to me for his eight year old son who had drowned in the river the week before.

I went out quite early in the morning on about our third day there to collect some drift wood to hang from the rafters in the kitchen area. We put brass hooks into the wood and hang utensils from them. As I was walking along the beach, one of the villagers appeared on the edge of the bush and waved me over. Through mainly sign language and his broken English I gathered we had to go now to dig the grave for the young boy who had drowned.

We walked for about 20 minutes to the edge of a bushy area. There were already about a dozen village men there and everybody was talking and taking a turn at digging. The mood was not very sombre and the men were generally engaging in what seemed to be lighthearted banter and teasing each others digging skills. We all had a go at digging and made reasonable progress, even though the ground was quite hard. There was quite a lot of light rain and after this became a bit more heavy and frequent it was decided that we would finish the grave the next morning at 07h30.

We all headed up through the fields along paths past mielie fields (corn) and clusters of huts, heading to the family homestead of the young boy who had died. About 500 meters from the huts we stopped. The family had left two big containers of water for washing our hands, which we did before heading over to their homestead for tea.

We sat under the eaves of the huts sheltered from the rain by the overhanging thatch. Everybody had a smoke and a chat. Bloody hell, I missed my pipe. I was inhaling the aroma of rough tobacco rolled in whatever paper was on hand (generally newspaper or pages that looked suspiciously as though they came from school exercise books), and the smell was pure Africa and seemed perfectly suited to the misty rain and the huts around us on the rolling green hills.

When I started getting looks from a caucus of men I thought I was going to be politely asked to leave. And when I got beckoned over I thought this was definitely the case. However, all they wanted to know as if we could use my bakkie (pick-up) to go and fetch a big marquee in the village as they were worried about the weather for the funeral the next day. I explained that it was not a 4x4 and was certain to get stuck in the mud, but was happy to give it a go if we could bring about six strong men along to push when required.

My bakkie must have thought it had died and gone to bakkie-heaven. We spent the next hour slipping and slithering our way through mad, river beds, and charging through bushes. We got stuck a lot, and each time everybody would clamber out and push and bounce, and shout, and laugh, and shove our way clear. We arrived at a homestead, packed the bakkie to the hilt with tent poles, pegs, chairs and a massive marquee. The trip back was just as hairy and at one stage i had to charge up a very muddy hill about six times before I finally made it up. I thought my steering had snapped, because I could quite seriously twist my steering wheel through 360 degrees and not impact our direction in the slightest. We finally unloaded the tent amongst lots of hearty back slapping and reinacting of the ride.

Once the tent was up, we all sat inside and got served tea by the women. It was weak, milky and had about three heaped spoons of sugar added to each tin mug. Delicious. Then two women came in with a big bucket and a lot of tin and plastic bowls. We were each served a big bowl of a white milky looking mixture. The form was to again take two or three big heaped spoons of sugar and sprinkle this over the surface of the bowl. It was an incredibly sour mixture. I think it was made from mielie (corn) meal and water and allowed to go sour. The sugar made the first half litre okay, but the second half litre I really struggled to get down.

Then it was time to head back to our hut and try to make a bit of progress before the day ended.

On the way I passed a group of women heading up the hill carrying water on their heads. This is quite a steep hill. You walk up about 50 meters in height over a 500 meter distance. It is enough to make your legs aware that you are doing it, and your calves ache. Anyway, heading the group was my gorgeous wife. Her shorts were replaced with an ankle length skirt, and around her head she had a scarf very professionally wrapped. On her head was a 15 kilogram load of water. It was her third trip of five.

It left me wondering who had worked harder. I think driving the bakkie and putting up the large tent put me way out in the lead, and I beat her 5 kilometer carrying of water up steep hills, and washing countless bowls in cold water to serve us.

Anyway, later a blog about the day of the funeral and the slaughtering of the bull and the raw bulls stomach.

Yummy.

Days 4 and 5 - settling in

The past couple of days have been interesting and exhausting in equal measure. On Thursday morning Charles was called by one of the local men to assist in the preparations for a funeral. Over the course of the next two days he assisted in digging the grave, collecting the funeral tent, burying the body, slaughtering a cow and sheep and then eating his share of the poor animals. I was also called on to assist in the preparations for the funeral, and I joined the women in collecting water, washing dishes, cooking the above mentioned sheep and cow, and serving the men. The roles of the men and women are very distinctive and clearly defined. There were several occasions over the past couple of days when I thought I’d drawn the short straw with regards gender roles (eg. when I was making my third trip up a steep embankment with 15 litres of water on my head! Or when I was sitting outside with the women on the open ground in the cold and rain during the funeral while Charles sat with the other men on a chair in a warm marquee), until I saw what the men were expected to eat! No doubt Charles will provide a detailed description of the 5 course meal which he consumed, but let me just say here that some of the courses eg. raw sheep stomach, might well have featured on Fear Factor or Survivor. As a woman, I was responsible for serving the men, and thankfully was under no pressure to actually eat what I’d helped to prepare.



Our little cottage is really coming along nicely. We now have one gas bottle which we use alternately to fuel the gas stove and to keep the gas fridge running. We will be doing our first shopping trip to Mthatha tomorrow (6 hour return drive) and will buy another gas bottle then, along with a months supply of food. We’re also going to pick up the girls in Mthatha. They’ve spent the past week with my mom, traveling up slowly from CT. Neither of them has seen the cottage since it’s been fixed up and I’m looking forward to showing it to them. It’s basically a 3-room cottage (about 42sqm in total), with mud dung floors, mud and cement brick walls and a corrugated tin roof - with spectacular views in all directions. Bath time involves warming 20 litres of water on the gas stove, pouring it into a bucket and washing and rinsing as well as possible without wetting the dung floor. As for other ablutions, you have the choice of using a bucket, the nearest bush or walking 300m down to the backpackers lodge. No flushing loos within at least 100km of here!



Caleb has taken all of this in his stride. He has settled in beautifully, and runs around filthy and half naked most of the time, with a huge grin on his face. His first spontaneous Xhosa word was “Puma” (sp?) said with great zest to his teddy bear, while throwing it off the bed. Puma (pronounced poo-ma) is the Xhosa equivalent of “voetsak”, usually yelled by the locals at a dog to get them out of a hut or away from food. Caleb’s use of the word had us all in hysterics.



I really need to spend some time working on my Xhosa! Very few of the locals speak any English and even with those who do, conversations can be quite challenging. For example, the local fisherman wandered past our cottage the other day and stopped by for a “chat” (as everyone does – it’s lovely). I was trying to make conversation with him so I asked whether the local school (No-ofisi) was closed that day – because I’d noticed that our neighbour’s kids were not at school. He had me confused initially when he said “Sunday, good fish – lots of cob, mussel cracker”. And then I understood when he added “but today No Fish” (sounding very similar to No-Ofisi). I could only nod in agreement and try my best to hide my amusement! Surreal conversations like this happen all the time.



We’ve been so busy that we’ve had little time to really appreciate the beautiful surroundings and so this afternoon Charles, Caleb and I went for a walk to collect drift wood (which we hang from the rafters, to create places to hang crockery and clothes). It was so beautiful to walk through the fields and forest and onto the spectacular beach. We swam and collected the most awesome shells. Everywhere you look, there are beautiful, perfect shells strewn on the beach. We’ve started to collect them to use in making our little verandah – we’re planning on setting shells and stones into wet plaster. It was fabulous to look beyond the challenges of daily living, and appreciate the beauty of this spectacular place.



I’ve also really enjoyed spending time with some of the local kids. Yesterday I gathered some of the kids that have been hanging around our house and we went down to the beach to collect shells to make a mobile. We drilled holes in each one (using a hand drill lent to us by a neighbour from CT) and tied them together with fishing line. We then hung each thread of shells from a piece of driftwood. The kids really seemed to enjoy the activity, and the end result has pride of place on the wall in our cottage.



On a more somber note, some of the kids really need medical attention – they have badly infected sores all over their heads and backs and in their ears. I know we can’t do everything, but I’m really hoping we’ll be able to organise a mobile clinic of some sort quite soon. There are a few kids who come to our place daily, some of whom have been orphaned, and it is really difficult to not get too involved too quickly in their individual situations. There is loads that can be done here, but it needs to happen slowly and with the right kinds of consultation with the local elders and traditional leaders. Speaking of which, I met with the local committee that’s been elected (by the community) to assist with the establishment of the Early Learning Centre. I am really excited about this project and the potential it has to address so many of the local challenges – including education and health issues. We will start making the (mud) bricks to build the centre within the next couple of weeks and hope to have at least 2 classrooms up and running by May/June. In the meantime, we’re looking for a hut to rent in the village to start with one group of about 12 kids. Starting off small will be a great opportunity to identify challenges that we’re likely to face.



Anyway, time for bed now. We’ve got another long day ahead of us tomorrow, starting just after 4am with the increasingly unpopular cockerel, who is inevitably joined at about 4h30 by the donkeys, to create an early morning symphony which is difficult to sleep through!

The first two days

Hi from Nqileni!

It’s been a totally crazy two days since we arrived. Charles and I are both physically exhausted from hours of driving and lots of manual labour. Also sore from medical ailments - Charles has an ulcer (must be the culmination of weeks of stress) and I have a very painful wrist after managing to stab myself with a sharp metal spike (went in about 2cm!). I nearly fainted pulling it out and then nearly fainted again when I realized I was almost 2 hours away from any medical care. Luckily the metal missed the major artery and nerves. Anyway, Charles doused the wound in lots of iodine and wrapped it up. My thumb still isn't working properly but at least I can type! Really hoping it won’t get infected. Typical that this happens when you're far from a doctor. When last did any of us stab ourselves with a sharp metal spike in CT?!


Otherwise all is well. Our little hut is looking very cosy with paraffin lights all over the place. Sam - your shelves are fantastic! The floor is really uneven though so all items of furniture are balanced on varying sizes of bricks and wood. Rather amusing! Bit like being in Wonderland.


We arrived on Monday evening and I spent most of Tuesday cleaning windows encrusted with paint and cement (without windowlene). We also had to do several trips to get all of our stuff to the cottage. At one point the trailer got stuck on a steep hill and so Charles unhitched it. While he was busy in the car some kids started playing with the trailer and it began rolling down the hill. Charles managed to grab it and was dragged about 20 metres until he finally stopped the thing! The local kids have been so intrigued by everything we do, we have a constant audience. It's a bit disconcerting having so many pairs of eyes watching your every move but they're really lovely kids. And I've learnt how to say "I'd like you to go home now please" in Xhosa. It works wonders but their little faces look so disappointed, it's heart breaking.


Charles managed to rig the solar system today so we should be able to charge batteries. Here's a pic of Charles and Dave setting up the solar panels in the rain (note the brolly!). Dave is on a call to the manufaturers, getting instructions. Very amusing.



Haven't built the toilet or shower yet - definitely the next major priority. We also haven’t got gas yet, so living without a fridge or stove. We're hoping to get to the shops tomorrow to get gas. We were meant to go today but it rained so we were stuck in the village (just as well the metal spike didn't hit an artery!). Hope we'll be able to go tomorrow, although we were told today that there is a funeral on Friday so tomorrow all the men in the village have to go help to dig the grave and the women have to prepare food. That includes us! Gender and funereal issues notwithstanding, it should be an interesting ceremony to participate in.


Sedgwick has a new lease on life and has even been spotted chasing a large bull, several chickens and a feral village dog. Not sure how long he'll last! We have another family pet now - a resident bat. Quite large and fast. As we write this, we just noticed a couple of other creatures of the night in our room. Need to close windows. Can’t close the door though cos it's swollen! Oh dear...


Rustic though our little cottage may be, there is the gentle sound of rain on the tin roof and the murmur of the sea outside. Wonderful. Which reminds us, we have to put out three buckets in the living area for the leaks in the roof (Charles is very proud about the fact that there are only 3!).



Gotta go have a bucket bath now. Charles has warmed up a 750ml thermos of hot water - will add some cold water and hope for the best. Going to have an early night because the cockerel starts up about 30cm from our door at 04:40 am sharp!



Thanks to everyone who has written messages on the blog. Sorry we haven't replied individually. We'll do so as soon as we have enough power.

On the road up - day one

After a terrible nights sleep all sharing the only mattress in the house, we headed off at 07h00. (I don’t want to drive in the dark with the trailer for very legitimate reasons)

Once we had packed on three beds, their mattresses, a small fridge, and some large drums to make our new loo, - there wasn't a hell of a lot of space left for anything else. My tit-of-the day moment was when, exhausted and tired of packing, I decided to have a full blown argument about why my fishing canoe was bloody coming and the kids school stuff could come later. Luckily sanity prevailed (as she normally does)

It was really nice to have the neighbours come out to see us off. Di, you nearly had us in tears.

Thanks to you all for your support. (or could it be that you all threw a street party now that we are gone, with our dogs that bark and kids that play in the garden too early?)

This was us about to leave. The blue fishing canoe is stuffed full of most of our clothes and towels. The back seat is packed to the roof, and the front seat has just enough space for the suppurating and decaying dog. (He looks like something from an Egyptian Mummy movie)

We are over-nighting in the town of Cradock. It is only 850km to get here, which would normally be about an 8 hour drive. But with the trailer averaging about 80km per hour, I got in 12 hours after leaving home.
Stopped alongside the road for a quick wee break.

A 12 hour drive is the perfect way to realise that you have a really terrible music collection.

It was a beautiful clear day, and the roads were nice and empty. Perfect for driving and marred only by Sedgwick (the dog) who continued to pass wind aggressively for the full duration of the trip, while lying regally atop a business class bed.
I really don't know why we keep him. Sonja is convinced I love him too death, which really isn't true. He is a crotchety, demanding bugger.

The trailer is way heavier than it should be so we have to take it really carefully.

Coming down a mountain pass is an experience.
Tomorrow we head off at about 07h00 and all going well we should be at the village by late afternoon.

That is if we survive our hosts for the night.

He has funny short fingers (that make me shudder remembering shaking hands with him) and a very vacant stare. He appears at our room door and stares at us without saying anything.

His nose looks like it has seen half a decade of heavy social drinking. Very creepy. (Old creepy, thankfully, and not strong and deadly creepy)

Sonja keeps teasing me that they are swingers and are going to come knocking at midnight.

Its not bloody funny.

It is a visual that is going to haunt me for months.

And don't blame me, because it is something a blue pill will not fix.

Our Medical Kit

We spent the last few days before leaving running around trying to put together a medical kit that would be comprehensive, but not over the top. We are two hours from a small district hospital, and about three hours from a proper hospital. We cannot cover every eventuality, but with the kids, you also don't want to be caught short at 3am unable to get to a doctor quickly.

I have taken the same approach that Quinten Tarantino's character had in True Romance, rather have a gun and not need it, than need a gun and not have it.

We spent quite a bit of time compiling this, and spoke to various doctors and medical people and looked at what was in kits of people in similar situations.

I do know that we could probably replace just about everything with natural and organic alternatives, and we will move in that direction.

Because it was such a mission getting our kit together, I thought I would list it for interest, in case anybody needed one. (Other people might you know!)

But for now, and with our time limitations we'll go with this for now.

Our kit consists of:

IV Drip Pack - rehydration mix

Orelox Junior -Broad Spectrum Antibiotic -Treatment of infections
Menthol Ointment - Cream - Camphor Chest Rub
Vermox -Tablets & syrup -De-worming medication
Imodium / Chloropect -Tablets & syrup -Anti-diarhea medication
Inza - Tablets - Anti Inflamatory
Eno / Rennies - Tablets & Sachets - Relief of Heartburn & indigestion
Bactroban - Cream - Antibacterial Cream
Ponstel - Syrup - Fever, aches & inflammations
Rehidrate & Cera - Salt sachets - Oral rehydration salts
Anthisan, Mylocort & Mepyrimal - Cream - Relieves skin reactions, stings & bites
Iodine tincture - Tincture - Antiseptic for wounds
Phyto Nova - Syrup - Natural Remedy for Coughs
Panado - Paediateric Syrup - Relief of Pain & Fever
Panado - Tablets - Relief of Pain & Fever
Medi-keel - Lozengers - Relief of throat pain
MedLemon - Powder Sachets - Cold & Flu Relief
Buscopan - Syrup & Tablets - Antispasmotic, relief of cramps
Similasan / Aurone - Ear Drops - Relief of ear pain
Eyegene & Safyr Bleu - Eye Drops - Soothes eyes
Salex - Solution - Saline nasal spray
Loratadine - Syrup - Antihistamien for allergic reactions, Allergic Symptoms
Allergex - Tablets - Antihistamine for allergic reactions, Allergic Symptoms
Myprodol - Capsules - Pain Killers
Adco - Syrup - Bronchodilator, Mucolytic - Cough Relief
Mercurochrome - Tincture -Antiseptic for wounds
Rinex - Syrup -Relief of Post Nasal Drip
Corsodyl - Mouthwash - Antibacterial Relief of mouth ulcers & gingivitis
Dynexan - Cream - Oral anaesthetic
Rescue Remedy - Tablets - Natural remedy for shock anxiety and sleeplessness
Hydrogen Peroxide - Solution - Antiseptic for wounds
Med Lemon - Syrup - Relief of Dry Coughs
Sinu-med - Tablets - Relief of Sinusirritation and hay fever
Calamine / Caladryl - Lotion - Itch Reliever
Brooklax - Tablets - For Relief of constipation
Ponstan Paediateric Suppositories - Suppositories for Relief of Fever
Thermometers - digital & mercury
Scissors - Two pairs
Tweezers
Dropper
Sterile gloves - Two sizes
Sterile scalpel
10 ml syringe
5 ml syringe
2 ml syringe
20cc. Irrigation Syringe
Green needles
Blue needles
Orange needles
IV Cannula
4/0 silk sutures pack
Suture needle
Snake bite kit (still to be ordered when we get there)
Medisan Gel - Antiseptic hand wash
Heat Packs
Cooler Pack
Face masks
Tongue Depressors
Medicine Measure Spoons
Eye Patches
Space Blanket
Savlon - Liquid Antiseptic
Batadine / Detol - Antiseptic Cream
Arnica Cream - Bruise and Sprain ointment
Plasters - Mixed Boxes
Bandages - 5 x Rolls
Cotton Wool - 2 x Rolls
Gauze Swabs - 1 x Big Packet
Hydrofilm - Water Proof Plasters
Plaster Roll
Micropore
Insect Repelant - Various
Doxycyclone Capsules - Tick bite fever and general braod spectrum antibiotic for adults
Hyospasmol Tablets - Relief od gastro intestinal spasm
Asthavent Inhaler - For relief of closed chest and laboured breathing
Burn Shield - Burn Dressing & Cream
Sterile Burn Dressing

Our New Solar System

We received our solar system today. So for any of you needing or thinking about putting in any solar system, here is what we are going with initially. The system is really just to power our two laptops, charge cell phones, charge small batteries for torches etc. The whole thing cost just under ZAR25,000 ($2,500), and has been put together by the suppliers so that I can jsut plug it in and go.

We will keep a note of how it operates and functions.

In the photo I have left my leatherman on the panel for scale.

This is one panel, the other two are still in their box.

The system consists of:

3 x 80 watt solar panels

An aluminium mount, frame and cables

1 x solar regulator with digital display.

3 x 100 amp hour batteries

1 x modified inverter

We will be cooking with open fire and gas, the small fridge/freezer that we have runs on gas, and for lighting we will be using LED lamps and candles. So this system really is just to keep our office going.

Hopefully I won't look like a tit when I try and put it all together.

Wikipedia will definitely be used.

One more day to go before we head off

We are both absolutely exhausted and neither of us has been to bed before 2am for about the last week. In light of this, and the fact that we still had quite a bit of loading tonight which would have meant being up to at least midnight, we are spending tomorrow morning doing some last minute chores, and then having an early evening, getting in a good night sleep, and heading off on Sunday morning.

I think it was a good call. Two days solid driving with trailer, kids, dog and the roof piled high, on 4 of 5 hours sleep over the course of a week, was not something I was looking forward to doing. Feel much better leaving on Sunday after a really good sleep.

The girls left today with Sonja's mom, Louise. We will see them on the 10th once we have got a loo and shower set up. She is taking them on a two day train trip to Port Elizabeth, and from there taking a slow drive up to us, spending a few days in the Addo Elephant park doing some game viewing. They are having a ball and phoned from the train very excited about their private sleeper compartment and all of the little knick-knacks they have been given.

We have farmed out all the pets except the decrepit one. Bugger.

The snake went to a family in Noordhoek, and included a live mouse feeding session as training.

Three of the hamsters have found a new home, and the last one heads off tomorrow.

One of the dogs is getting picked up tomorrow at 1pm, which will leave sedgewick.

Sonja after the move looking a little contemplative.

We are now down to one mattress, so Sonja has passed out upstairs with Caleb next to her.

The dogs are looking at me suspiciously as I eye their blankets and baskets.

House is now empty, the only furniture remaining is one mattress.

Can't wait for Sunday morning to finally be on the road.

We drive from Cape Town, via Beaufort West, Aberdeen, and Graff Reinet to overnight in Cradock. This should be about 12 hours with the trailer restricting our speed.

On day two we drive via Queenstown and Mthatatha through to the village. This will be about 10 hours. So Monday evening we should be enjoying a beer in Bulungula.

Can't wait.

At last, a blog from Sonja

We need to get Sonja blogging. She is much more intelligent and articulate than I am. I think that once we get there, the blog will be much more balanced with two perspectives. I have just got got her to agree that we would post a copy of a message she has sent a friend. (Doc, I changed the details to protect your families privacy.) I will press publish before she changes her mind.

Hi XXX

Thanks so much for your message. I feel like I have really neglected everyone lately, and have not had the time or space to see as much of my friends as I’d like to. It’s really been a crazy time – physically and emotionally. Charles continues to storm ahead with absolutely no anxiety or reservation, and I sometimes feel ridiculous for not being equally undaunted. In between work, packing, fundraising for the early learning centre and wrapping up life in CT, I have made a tentative start with the home schooling. It’s really great to engage with the kids in this way, but it has made me realise the enormity of the task – and that’s only ONE of the many new responsibilities we’ll be taking on – along with hunter-gathering, running an NGO and playing doctor! Speaking of which, we spent the evening putting together the medical kit – trying to think of every eventuality which we might face in our hut 2 hours from the nearest medical facility – from snake, dog and tick bites to diarrhea, fever, broken bones, worms, cuts and abrasions, burns… enough to make even the most hardy of parents squirm just a little!

As I write this, Charles is updating the blog – no doubt presenting a completely different take on the latest events!

Anyway, hope you’re not working – and that you’re having xxxxx (ha, ha).

Lots of love,
S.

So we figured a radio is a must

So, we figured that a radio is a must.
This was put on my list. Sonja entrusts me with all the important stuff like this, while she handles the simple things like home-schooling, actual paid for work, and raising two million to build a school.
Then I spent literally about two weeks looking for a good old fashioned, battery operated FM / AM radio.
I couldn't find one anywhere, and I looked everywhere.
Eventually I found a decent one in a small local electronics shop.
I got the specifications, had a good look at it, and returned on the week-end to buy it.
Unbelievably the shop was closed.
I got really grumpy. The pressure is mounting. Time is short. The to-do list is long.
How can they frigging close on a week-end.
Its not the frigging sixties. They are not selling booze on a Sunday. Its not a hash bar.
Its just a radio !&$#%!@#&!! and another ( %7$#*!! )
So, after staring coldly at the window, I stormed off into Pick n Pay to buy some chicken for dinner. (yes, free range)
This is a completely different shop, in a different place. I am alone. I speak to nobody.
(Concentrate)
(Cosmic forces are about to strike)
Now normally, when you need a staff member to find a really obscure item, you can look for one for hours.
Not this time. I am walking down an isle, heading for the chicken section, and a staff member cautiously approaches me.
I feel nervous. I haven't shop-lifted since I was ten years old. And that was the only time ever. It was a Spider man comic from CNA in Rondebosch if you are interested. It was dead easy, but I was so wracked by guilt I couldn't enjoy the comic. That was my last and only criminal act.
Anyway, I know I am not about to be nabbed for that, but still, this guy was looking at me pretty funny. Whacko.
(so back to my story.)
He says. (And now this is true and not exaggerated in any way)
He says
"excuse me sir, are you the man looking for the radio"
Eh, eh.
Read that line again.
That is not just friggin weird, it is frikken weird.
So I tell him I haven't asked anyone in this store for a radio, but I am actually looking for one.
(are you getting goose pimples yet)
So he looks at me and he tells me this is the last one in the store, he got it out of the back, and he was told a man wanted one, but there is nobody else, so it must be for me, and then he gives it to me and walks off.
So now I have the radio packed and ready in the garage, and I have to tell you.
I am going to treat this radio with the utmost respect.
I am expecting cosmic utterances from the beyond to eerily float around the room at 2am.
I am expecting big things.
Special things happen to special people.
Perhaps that dude who had that whole Pyramid / UFO vibe happening was right.
Maybe (Robbie Williams) there are little chaps in spinning craft hovering over Los Angeles and the Sun Valley Mall in Cape Town.
You have to keep an open mind about these things.

What to take with us.

Three days to departure. House chaos (check) Kids chaos (check) Charles ratty (check) Sonja lucky to have Charles (check) Boxes everywhere (check) Checks-lists being lost (I put it next to the microwave, the kids must have moved it) General mayhem and bedlam (check)
Not calm (no) Not peaceful (not) Enough time to do everything (no) Enough space (no)

I pack well.
Packing a months equipment into a boot before heading off into the Namib dessert for a camping trip, and ending up fitting a pair of binoculars into a perfectly sized space, a perfect fit, why - it gives me goose pimples.
I love packing.
And you mess with my packing system at your peril.
Keep the hell away.
I'll get what you need.
You don't mess with the way I lay my wood on a fire, and you don't mess with my packing.
Obviously.
I still have a picture in my head of Robin Knox Johnson, the lone sailor about to head off for the first solo, unsupported circumnavigation of the world in his yacht. He is on the jetty, surrounded by a mountain of supplies. All carefully calculated to the last tin. The last needle.
Beautiful. Exquisite.
I can add one thing at this junction.
I can promise you, he did not have children on the jetty.
Packing with kids is very, very trying.
Packing with kids who are home from school all day is even worse.
Trying to reduce your entire life into what you can fit into the family car and a small trailer starts off as being cathartic, but quickly turns you psychotic.
Luckily for the kids it is illegal in South Africa to bury them alive, sign them over to the neighbours, or dangle them upside down from the top of the stairs.
Our new cottage suddenly seems a very small place to be moving to.
We have been absolutely ruthless packing. To fit enough to make a small cottage functional, while having enough of the basics is not easy.
And we have stuck to the basics:
Solar system and batteries - tick (enough to operate laptops and communicate)
Tools and spares - tick (we need to build a loo, shower and a long list of other things urgently)
Fishing kit - tick (we have to catch fish, three meals per week are earmarked as seafood)
Pots, pans and kitchenware - tick (very little of anything, just enough to cook and get by)
Wood, buckets, drums, pipes - tick (we need that shower and loo)
Beds and bedding - tick (one short, two kids must share)
Gas fridge - tick
Two plate cooker - tick
Gas Bottles - tick
Clothes - tick
Kids homeschooling material - tick
Suddenly we are out of space, damn.
What to take out.
What to leave.
And when we think that we have the balance just right, its one thirty A.M, you can't see straight, you hit your bed feeling good, and the next afternoon when you return home from work the kids have got creative with your packing.
There will be no smiling final photo just prior to departure.
I promise you.
The worst part is. The worst part.
We have got so little. So very little to take with us.
The worst part is.
It is still so much more than everybody else in the village.
So I am going to have to feel guilty moving in with what little we have.
There will be no Kudos.
It is like cooking without an audience - you may as well eat toast and egg.
I remain sane by reminding myself that I can still at least pack perfectly, and feel excited, in a very satisfying TETRIS way, when I slip the last tin of paint perfectly into position.
If you knew how little you could take.
You would freak out.

Water Restrictions

It sometimes takes a little thing to make you really learn and understand.

The simple action of filling and carrying a 20 litre jerrycan was one of these lessons for me.

A twenty litre Jerrycan is heavy. It should weigh twenty kilograms, but it doesn't.

It weighs about forty kilograms. A scale won't tell you that, but carrying one will.

When we were plastering the inside of the cottage in October we needed about two hundred litres of water each day for the building each day.

This was a challenge. There are no taps. If you need two hundred litres of water you go and find a spring.

We used a four wheel drive to collect the water each morning, and we usually had a small army of children to help us fill and load.

But it was still a massive mission.

So this was the lesson I learned: Living in an urban environment, it is impossible for me to appreciate the importance and value of access to fresh water.

One of the bigger challenges we have at the cottage will be how we will access water.

There is a spring about 350 meters away, down a 40 meter hill. But this spring will have ecoli. And if we drink it it will make us ill.

This is the spring, the logs and sticks are to discourage animals from using the same spring and contaminating the water even further.

Our best bet has been a rainwater tank.

We put a 5000 litre tank in when we were up in October.

We have about 50 square meter of roof to fill this.

We have put gutters on half the roof, and as soon as we arrive we must put up the other half.

Based on East London rainfall figures this will give us the following rainwater per month in litres (by the way, you are using more than 200 litres in a single bath - the figure in brackets is what we can use, as family of five, for all our cooking, drinking, cleaning, bathing, and washing up)

Jan - 3450 litres (115 daily)

Feb - 4600 litres (153 daily)

March - 5250 litres (175 daily)

April - 4150 litres (138 daily)

May -2600 litres (86 daily)

June - 2000 litres (66 daily)

July -2350 litres (78 daily)

Aug - 3900 litres (130 daily)

Sept -4000 litres (133 daily)

Oct -5100 litres (170 daily)

Nov -5500 litres (183 daily)

Dec -3150 litres (105 daily)

So in a best case scenario, the figures in brackets are the total litres we can use per day.

Below is are target of what we will try and keep our daily consumption down to:

Showering/Bucket Bath - 40 litres (20l for the 3 kids, 20l for the adults - this gives me 5 x 2 litre juice bottles of water to bath/shower with each day)

Brushing teeth, shaving, washing hands etc - 3 litres

Drinking - 12 litres (2l per person per day drinking, plus 2 litres for the kettle)

Cooking - 8 litres

Cleaning Food - 3 litres

Cleaning dishes - 12 litres

Total minimum required per day for family of five = 78 litres

(this is about one third of one bath)

When I see the total like this it seems pretty daunting.

But we don't really have an option.

Roy very kindly donated an old pump to us, and I will play with that and see if we can get some spring water up to the cottage, and by adding chlorine or jik, get it clean enough to at least shower in. But it is a bit of a long shot and we cannot rely on it.

We are also going to need about twenty litres per day for chickens and dogs. We will use spring water for this which we will collect once per week and store in two 100 litre drums at the cottage.

We will also recycle any greywater we can to use to water our vegetable garden.

So, like I said, you learn little lessons all the time.

When I stand in a shower now, I appreciate it.

And when we build our new house, we will for damn sure put in rainwater tanks.