N'wanedi Pt. 2

There was also a lovely dam. Well, two, but I only got pictures of one.






That tree always had a ton of birds on it. It also wasn't always white.

N'wanedi Nature Reserve

Over Easter weekend 17-or-so of us Limpopoites traveled up to the N'wanedi Nature Reserve. We all met in Thohoyandou, an extremely poor but culturally significant town northwest of Giyani (so northward by a good ways from me). We rented a taxi and made the extremely long trip to the reserve. As this was a month or so into site, and we were all still so new to our surroundings, it was one big PCV lovefest.

A lot of photos:



Elizabeth scrubbing pots.
And Seth grilling.
Gender stereotypes, go!



Sean, who can build one hell of a grill fire.


Out-of-focus delicious chicken.


Cate.


Ethan.


Carol, at whose Tzaneen apartment I stay probably a little too often. She is my Peace Corps mom, and has kept me fed and healthy.


There was a troop of baboons near our guest house. One was brave enough to come into one of our rooms. Our friend Elizabeth ran at it screaming. Somehow, that did not result in her immediate dismemberment.














Thatched roof.


We tried to go canoeing on the lake, but there was only one car to transport them and it was out god knows where. So we hiked to the water instead.


Seth and the Baobab.


Sami.














Veronica.

Dankie's 5th Birthday Party

We had Dankie's 5th birthday party shortly after I arrived at site. There was much cold drink and dancing.


Family in the living room. From left to right: Leah, Mme. Mabasa, Macy (mother of Dankie and Motlare), behind her is Silence (the 10yo at private school in Phalaborwa), Motlare, Dankie, Aubrey's fiance, and Aubrey (the Grade 12 student who lives in the same building as I).


Silence, Tla, and Dankie.






Dankie is big on attention, so he spent most of the part dancing in front of everyone. Glorious.


Dankie dancing. Sorry about the poor lighting. We were partying to the glow of World Restoration Service (a.k.a. Jesus TV).

Food

The most common dish in my village (and across a lot of the country) is a large portion of pap [pr. pahp - a.k.a. bogobe, a.k.a. porridge] with chicken feet or chicken/beef entrails or morogo [any number of green leafy vegetables, but generally cabbage or spinach, which is closer to what we call swiss chard]. Pap is a thick porridge cake thing (to the point of holding its own shape) made from mealie meal [corn meal]. Most people eat this dish, or some close variant, for every meal. According to Mabatho, if she goes two days without pap she feels weak. That is because pap makes you strong. Or, rather, it rapidly metabolizes directly into sugar in your system. Diabetes is a huge problem here. Also, pap is absolutely delicious and is the reason I will be pushing 200lbs when I come back.

To eat pap, you grab a little in your hand, roll it into a ball-type-shape between the fingers and palm, and then use it or a spare finger or two to pick up meat or veg, or soak up some soup/gravy (usually the leftover oil/residue left from cooking the meat or veg). The chicken is usually boiled in a pot with water, oil, sautéed onions, and some soup mix. Vegetables are generally chopped into microscopic bits and boiled until the cows come home (about 4 p.m. judging by the herd near me), which, for you non-nutritionists out there, means that most of the nutrients are drained from the food before it reaches the table. Nutrition becomes a project for many PCVs.

I've started eating two meals a day, for the most part, generally waking up too late or being too lazy in the morning to make breakfast. When I do have time I make egg-in-a-hole (with fresh eggs from a neighbor), oatmeal with a banana, or just have an apple.

I tend to have lunch at the org because we have a feeding scheme for the kids and workers get fed for free. In fact, I just had lunch (pap with chicken feet and gravy – pictured below) with two co-workers between this sentence and the last. It was fantastic.






For dinner I usually make rice with vegetable stir-fry (onions and tomats sold in the village and green peppers from Tzaneen, with Indian spices from this wonderful little spice shop in Tzaneen which smells like I imagine heaven would), dal (an Indian lentil dish), pasta with homemade super chunky sauce with basil from the org garden, or, if I am feeling lazy, ramen.

My family is fascinated with my eating habits. My two homestay brothers/nephews what live at home, Dankie and Motlare, stand right next to the hotplate and squeal with excitement any time that I add spices. The younger one, Motlare, demands that he get a pinch of salt when I use it. Boy loves his sodium. I once gave my other brother, Silence, 10 years and off at boarding school, a small piece of partially cooked garlic. He seemed less interested in my cooking after that.

Dinner preparation takes about twice as long as it should because I have to take breaks to wrestle with my brothers or tell Motlare not to touch the hotplate because it is fisha [hot]. Everything I don't want him to touch (hotplate, knives, my phone, etc.) is fisha. Works wonders.


A list of interesting things I have eaten:
Mala ya kgogo [chicken entrails] – fairly delicious with a good gravy and hot pap.

Mala ya kgomo [cow entrails / stomach] - not so tasty, in my opinion. The smell alone is enough to to turn the stomach (mine, not the cow's). Unfortunately, when I ate them I had three women watching my every move. I am proud to say that I ate the whole steaming bowlful.

Chicken feet - we have them regularly at the drop-in center. They are delicious heavily salted and just off the grill. You just have to make sure to bit off the toenails before digging in.

Mopani worms [grilled caterpillar] - not bad if you stew them in some olive oil with onions and tomats, but you mostly find them grilled to a burnt crisp and then left to harden for goodness knows how long. Everyone here asks if I've had mopani worms, but I've never met anyone who likes them. I think they are kept around to haze the lekowa [foreigner - it is my default name until I tell people my real one, sometimes longer than that]. In reality, though, they breed prodigiously on Mopani trees during the rainy season and are a great source of protein for families that can't afford meat.

I'm still waiting for someone to make me some locusts or termites. That and boiled chicken head. Oh, how the vegetarian has fallen! I still don't prepare my own meat, though. Well except for that bacon for the delicious mixed green, hard-boiled egg, feta, avocado and bacon salad I made at my friend's apartment in Tzaneen. We splurge on rare occasion.

A Boy and His Dog(s)

My dogs during training. Pinky was preggers for most of it, so she just waddled around. Twin, on the other hand, sat on my lap during language class. I still harbor plans to bring him to my permanent site, but my host family is a little reluctant to have a dog at the house. Working on it, though.


Twin






Pinky




The puppies.

Mabatho

Some photos of her and her house:


My room during PST. Yes, I had one of the nicest setups.


And yes, those are heart-shaped pillows.


The incredibly pink hallway.


The lady, herself.

Host Family Appreciation Day

Near the end of PST we had a Host Family Appreciation day. Unfortunately, Mabatho had to work and couldn't attend, so some random lady acted as my homestay gogo when we handed out certificates. Of course, as this took place in South Africa, there was much food and dance.

Mabatho had had the wonderful idea of having matching outfits tailored for my language group - which met in her garage. She helped us pick out the fabric and we had a lady down the road sew them for us.

Some photos:


Sean's Mme and the language group: Me, Sean, Elizabeth, and Melissa


Merris checking out my rad chest hair.


Sam C., Lebo, Wanna, Merris.