We arrived at the school, and got out. All of the kids looked at me, interested. Like the toddler in the healer’s village, they had never seen a white boy before. They also thought that white people were made of candy, because whenever a white person came by in a car, they would throw candy to the children. One of the kids beckoned me. So I climbed up the hill…and ever since then, I had an entourage. They grabbed my arms, and took me from place to place. They made me jump rope, something I wouldn’t normally like doing, and I tried to scare them by acting like a lion, and then by acting like a zombie. Most of them were scared, but there were a few that weren’t. Mom had a crowd too, and so did Inge, a Dutch woman on the tour with us. The kids would rub their hands against the women’s arms, supposedly because they thought that if they did it enough times, they would become white.

We also went horseback riding to another village. It came naturally to me. I galloped at one point. The only problem was that my horse tended to ignore me, even if I hit it really hard. I normally am against hitting animals, but there was no other way. Man, that was an obstinate thing!

When we finally got into the village, I looked around, and heard about and saw something that surprised me: a clinic. It was in the middle of nowhere in the countryside! But, it was good for the people and animals living there. The sheep in the area are kept for their wool, so nobody wants anything bad happening to them. All people and animals are supposed to be vaccinated from diseases like rabies and cured of ticks, fleas, and other parasites, so supposedly it was safe to pet them. Supposedly. Apparently, some dog owners still didn’t take care of their dogs properly, so I was only allowed to look, not touch. But what I did see! Four adorable puppies, standing on their hind legs, sucking milk from their mother, who refused to lay down. She looked very tired and hungry.  Tired… sounds very familiar. Because that’s what I was! We sheltered from the rain in our hut and…sorted and stored our memories, in a process called sleep.

Ploughing the field. Most people can’t afford cows for ploughing so this man is hired to do the work.

Traditional homes, Rondavel.

Valley view

Learning to balance a berry basket.