Holiday Travels: Ngwenya Mine and Ngwenpisi Gorge

      1st term ended April 17, so we did some traveling within Swaziland each of the 2 weeks between terms, on the other days meeting high school students at the nearby refugee camp.

THE OLDEST (OR 2ND OLDEST) MINE IN THE WORLD

      The first week of break we went with our young friend John Koffi to Ngwenya mine, described around here as the oldest mine in the world (actually, John did some research afterwards and found there is one in Egypt that is older, so,OK,  2nd oldest).   43,000 years ago the San bushmen, the only inhabitants then of southern Africa, hollowed out a cavern the size of a small living room on the top of the mountain to the left of us in the picture below; here we are in front of a modern iron ore open pit, now abandoned.

The bushmen were mining hematite, for color in painting themselves and on their rock drawings, suggesting the importance to them of that decoration and art work.  We spent 3 days with John, thinking through issues and steps in the coming years, staying at a favorite Peace Corps backpackers hostel.

TUTORING AND MEETINGS AT THE REFUGEE CAMP

     We  met with the high school students from the refugee camp most days when we were home over the break.  After one session Katherine WhastApped one of the students suggesting a writing project (we try to suggest them frequently to those who might benefit), and she received this reply:

Good morning Catherine,  thanks alot for every single words that you guys keeping on telling me, because they build something in me that contribute a big change in my academic and personal life.  Thank you very much and i will do the writing.

   The writer is one of the Form 4s (juniors) whom we have just gotten to know this term, a quiet, thoughtful  19-year-old from the Democratic Republic of Congo; I think he started English about 5 years ago.

        Even more than Swazi high school graduates, refugees in this country are stuck in a desperate limbo, because there is no funding for them to attend college in Swaziland, and it is difficult and expensive for them to travel elsewhere.  To try to understand their alternatives we set up meetings at the camp with a young woman who has studied scholarships available to graduates from Swazi high schools, other than financial aid from the Swazi government.  She was due at 8:30 in the morning; we told the refugee students we'd meet them at 8, just to prepare, and we came in to find they'd been meeting since 7 that morning, going over plans and expectations of each other: e.g.,  "use formal language when you ask a question."  We regularly tutor about a dozen high school students from the camp, but there were 25 kids there, nearly every student in the Camp from 6 grade up. 

        After the first speaker we were joined by the US Embassy's Consul, who handles applications of refugees to enter the US, to talk about that and generally about the (many, many) issues with refugees traveling and trying to establish themselves in more favorable economies.   We left at 11 with the US Consul for lunch Katherine had prepared at our hut because we wanted some face time with the Consul; we learned later in the day the kids continued meeting and de-briefed for another 2+ hours!  So that was around 6 hours of meetings for these kids; they are a determined  crew, trying to find an exit strategy.  

NGWEMPISI GORGE

       This week we took a trip we'd been thinking about for a year, to a lodge built into a cliff face high above a remote gorge at the end of a rough 15 kilometer dirt road, in the hills on the west side of Swaziland.  Several people whom we reached by phone assured us they handled reservations for the local community association that ran the lodge and all would be ready for our arrival, but when the taxi we'd hired to take us from the nearest khumbi rank 40 km away reached the lonely homestead at the end of the road, the Make (mother) there who handled the Lodge had no idea we were coming.  But, not to worry, no one else was at the Lodge that night and she assured us all was in order: gas for the stove; water; even hot water for showers!  And the paraffin lanterns and blankets we would need (winter is coming on, and it gets into the mid-40s at night up in the hills) would be brought down in a few hours.  And the taxi driver promised to come back for us at 11 the next day.  We hiked 40 minutes and maybe 800' elevation loss into the gorge and then found the water not working, and no fuel for the shower heater.  But the blankets arrived later in the afternoon and I found the lanterns in a nearby hut for a security guard (which raised some questions in our minds, but, I guess we're glad to have security). 

 We hiked down to the river. On the way we met a man carrying a sack, which he said contained "leaves" he had harvested, no doubt dagga, the hot and (in my opinion) low potency marijuana which some claim is Swaziland's major export crop.

       Back at the lodge we watched for birds.

  Katherine developed the annoying habit of exclaiming she'd seen a purple crested turoco when I was looking the other way; she got some good views, I think I saw him once; we've seen him before, at other game reserves, but I'd have loved to see him again.  On one porch of the lodge we sipped wine we'd carried

and then had dinner. 

       The next morning we watched the dawn from the rocks above the lodge

 and from a high rock we managed to text our taxi driver to confirm he was coming for us; he called right back and promised to meet us at the school near the homestead.  We hiked out of the gorge and the driver was early, picking us up on our way to the school.  I don't want to seem cynical, but I've heard "Oh sure, I'll be there tomorrow" from lots of Swazis and been disappointed, and there appeared no other way we could have got back to a traveled road - we saw one other vehicle (going the wrong way) on the whole length of the road out, so this was a great end to our trip.  

       It was interesting to think of looking forward to getting back to our homestead to get clean, and comfortable, and safe, and to be in control.  Just as we get set to leave, we are settling in.