You never can tell

This morning I was out in the vegetable garden looking for signs of sprouting cabbage and spinach that we had sown a week ago. Among the weeds, I did find the tiny seedlings pushing through bravely, but I had a surprise coming. The young Zulu gardener drew my attention to an abundance of ready food growing in the ruins of the tiny stone cottage only meters away: Umbido, a type of wild spinach, and a staple food in the rural areas. I grew up with much the same in the northern parts of the country, but called Marogo in the Sotho language.

Enter my new helper and friend, Winnie Nkosi. She lives on the edge of the Zaaihoekdam in a traditional mud house with no electricity. Twice a week she walks the four odd kilometres to help me with all things domestic. She has also taken it upon herself to teach me the Zulu language and culture with optimistic determination. The planned lunch menu was immediately ditched in favour of a lesson in local cooking and Winnie showed me the difference between weeds and Umbido and how to pick only the young shoots as the older ones taste bitter.

Come lunchtime we each had a bowl of steaming Phuthu (mealie meal porridge) smothered in Umbido with braised onion and a hint of curry added to it.

She came and stood next to me as I was loading the photographs below onto my laptop. "My daughter gave me one of those," she motioned to the laptop, " but I don't know how to use it much. And we have no internet."

"You must bring it along and I will show you what you want to know," I said, trying to hide my surprise and thinking how George has been browsing through computer catalogues lately, very much in need of a laptop to keep up to date.

In this new way of life, you never can tell.

Matilda

Comments

Whistle while you work

Drawing by Ron Leishman When last did you whistle while working? When last did you hear someone else whistle while working? Somehow it bothers me that whistling has become an almost absent element in our work. The sound of a person whistling a tune while busy somewhere in the house or out in the workshop conveys something of an underlying happiness, satisfaction and contentment. An enjoyment of the work itself. The tune need not be flawless. Applying more air than sound won’t lead to disqualification, as long as the intention is there. Whistling can even be replaced by singing in all that I’ve said up to now. The same principles apply. The absence of any of these two activities bothers me because it says something about us doing the work and the type of work that we do. Can it be that our type of labour in this 21 st century is not conducive to either whistling or singing? What type of work is that then – draining, stressful, pressured? Or are our conclusions ...

Lessons in Sunbirdish (1)

I have no way of proving that God exists. For a long, long time I believed because I didn't think I had a choice. If it is a choice between heaven and hell, you do what it takes to secure your celestial seat. Somehow I never stopped to consider why I so strongly believed in a heaven and hell, but wasn't nearly as sure that there's a God holding the keys to them. Then the sunbirds came. Slowly but surely I am being taught the dialect I need to converse with God. Or rather, to follow on what seems to be a trail that God leaves me. Being just up ahead and beckoning me all the while, it's not a chase after or a search for God, but rather a joint venture with God scouting and reporting back when my spirit runs low on this journey through life. In A Rare Find and Bird on my window sill I touched on synchronicity. I have come to believe that consciously living our moments, awakens us to the fact that there are more things in this life than meet the eyeball. Things t...

A likely Hero: Jara Cimrman

As Matilda has already indicated, one of the most difficult things to do after you’ve visited a country is to return and convey something of what you’ve experienced. How do you show a city’s many faces, introduce its inhabitants? How do you tell of the effects a history has on people and of a stance towards life that can actually not be translated into words? In the case of Prague, it is very helpful to have someone like Jara Cimrman. ~ ~ v ~ ~ Petrin Hill, on the left bank of the river Vltava running through Prague, is in many ways a site worth visiting. Climbing the 299 steps of the Petrin Tower, inspired by the Eiffel Tower, gives you one of the most beautiful views of the city. But by going down into its basement, you enter into the psyche of the Czech people. Here, quite unobtrusively, is the museum for the “ Genius, who has not become famous ”. Matilda and I almost stumbled onto it by chance and as we went through the exhibition, our amazement over this brilliant ...

The Restory Retreat Centre

Search This Blog