Anne's and Liz and Clive's

Shortly before swearing-in we visited our sites for a few days to meet our orgs and to get to know a little about where we would be spending the next two years of our lives. We were supposed to return Sunday, but, due to the lack of Sunday taxi service in my village, I was forced to return to Tzaneen on Saturday. As was my friend Sean. So, new to the area, we had no idea where to stay and called our APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director - our main PC contact/supervisor), Kori, for suggestions. She in turn called Ted, a volunteer in Tzaneen, who put us in contact with Anne, friend of a friend. All Sean and I knew was that we were going to spend the night at a house sympathetic to our cause. Lo and behold, it was this house:















Anne (Zimbabwean) and her husband Alan (Kenyan), both white, had owned a farm in Zimbabwe, but were forced to leave by Mugabe, who has been taking land from white farmers for years now. They then moved so SA and purchased farmland north of Tzaneen. After apartheid, the SA begin reclaiming land, some of which happened to include Anne and Alan's new farm. So the new SA gov't. purchased it from them, and Anne became a banana tissue analyst (sounds ridiculous, but apparently it is big business here in Citrus and Musa country). I think Alan may have retired early. Unfortunately, these land reclamation deals, while a necessary step toward building a post-apartheid SA, were done without much planning or foresight and many of the farms taken or purchased, including Anne and Alan's, still lay fallow.

The two of them were brilliantly welcoming and treated us like their own children. For dinner they served roast leg of lamb encrusted in rosemary and some very tasty wine. Seeing as how I had spent the last four days drinking water out of a trash can (it is was what my temporary homestay gave me as a container), my ducts became awash with joy.

Another Tzaneen-based couple, Liz and Clive, family friends of a PCV south of me, have also put us up from time to time, and also treat us like members of the family while we are there. Liz (American, started hitch-hiking down Africa in the '70s and ended up here) works in Swaziland and Clive (British, unsure about his hitching history) is a citrus consultant. They have one son, Christopher, who is 15.

These photos do little justice to their house, but are better than nothing. So you don't think PC is a walk of cake, it on very rare occasion (twice now) that I stay here. By and large, I poop in a hole, live in my compact concrete room, and eat chicken feet for lunch - not that I would change a single thing about my village or homestay. The occasional reprieve, however, is generally welcome.