Yesterday we enjoyed Victoria Falls, known locally as the Thunder that Smokes. We hiked and helicoptered through and over the falls, and enjoyed the views immensely. Today, after breakfast at our romantic mosquito-netted table for 6, we met Victor and drove to Chief Makutu Village where we met John, one of the village men who gave us a walking tour. The village is 650 years old and is governed by the Chief and the Queen who are cousins. The Chief is head of matters of justice while the Queen is head of matters involving property and finance. John complained repeatedly during our 45 minutes together about how important the women are and how unimportant the men are. He was also most unhappy about the dowry which in Chief Makutu Village is paid to the bride’s family rather than the other way around, “You-eh see,” said John, “eet eez de woman det is vel-u-eb-el he-ah end naught de man. Eet eez naught fay-er baat eet eez so.”
We passed the Big Shop and the similarly sized Little Shop with its motto “Do Not Despise Small Beginnings”, see pics, and the village jail which is essentially a one room shack with a locked barred door where the men are put to sober up when a bit too inebriated from a night of drinking in one of the many pub shacks from which African music blasts to be shared by all in the village. John assured me that there are “noh-eh dengeros creemeenals een de jail, jus’ drank-ards,” I was relieved as it hardly looked secure. John also mentioned that “those thet precktice weetchcrahft are naught ellowed to leev een de village, but dey git meny visitahs.”
A good tip we learned was that if building a home in the bush one must choose between safety and fashion. Round huts are safe as snakes cannot find a dark corner to comfortably coil up in, while square huts are apparently all the rage these days but can pose mortal danger to the residents. Sort of like the 6 inch ultra high heel trend of Fall ‘08.
In the village, families, defined as descendants of the “sem grendfatha’ oh grendmatha’” live together in a stick fence encampment containing anywhere from 2 to 5 thatch-roofed huts. Children can attend school just 2 km away but only if they can afford to pay for a uniform. By the looks of the children we were seeing, there would be precious few able to attend school. Living conditions are extremely poor, bare red clay and mud huts with thatch roofs and newspapers strewn on the floors. A few chickens could be found scratching around and children in filthy clothes and bare feet were everywhere. In spite of the poverty, several of the family areas were incredibly well swept so that the red clay earth looked like a smooth inviting carpet. John explained that these were the homes of the families that had patrons in Johannesburg. You see the men of the village are craftsmen and homebrew makers while the women maintain the home, raise the children and manage the money. The better craftsmen are engaged as contractors to business men in Jo’burg who have tourist shops and sell the crafts at a hefty mark up. In exchange the village men receive compensation that enable them to have a few extras, including money for a broom to sweep their earth.
We met many of the village children who were eager to meet Livvy and Justin and see if we had any “sweeties” for them. We went into several of the huts to meet the locals and while they were very friendly and even gave us a few mangos as gifts, their desperation for us to purchase their carvings was heart wrenching. We did our best at the village craft market where each family has a stall to buy something from many of them. One fellow asked to trade me a craft for my plastic water bottle, but I couldn’t bear the thought of taking anything so just gave it to him as a gift which he accepted with a nod and a smile.
From there we drove to the only orphanage in town, Ebeneezer Children’s Home, where 30 children aged 2-16 reside. Most of the children are here as the result of losing their parents to HIV/AIDS, and many nursed their parents until their deaths, leaving their eyes dark and oh so sad. The smallest, a little 2 year old girl with amazing rhythm who danced to the welcome song we were treated to upon arrival, had been found on the side of the road where numerous newborn babies are simply left to die each week. The children gave us a tour of the orphanage, holding our hands like old friends, and sharing their ages with us and how long they had been at the orphanage. Every child at the orphanage has a uniform and attends school.
Livvy, Justin and Chloe were mesmerized by the children who were their same ages but whose stories were nothing like their own. We had made a donation as well as brought a large duffel bag from home full of boxes of coloring markers, stickers, paper pads, crayons, pencils etc., and though there was plenty for each child to have several items of their own as well as a good amount of supplies for the school, it felt to all of us like we needed to figure out how to do more. Justin and Chloe immediately began discussing a clothing drive they would organize at their respective schools to send to the orphanage after we get home, and Livvy wants to do a presentation to her class and have her classmates donate baby supplies for the nursery they are building. As we drove away from Ebeneezer’s Children Home, we felt hopeful that these kids would have a chance at a better life thanks to the schooling they were each receiving and that maybe in some small way our visit and donations would make a difference.
We drove back to the hotel for a bite of lunch and then Livvy, Justin, David and I headed out with Victor to the town craft market in search of a Big 5 carving for Livvy, and then to see the crocodiles. Tomorrow we leave for Botswana and our safari adventure.
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