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Tag: child

  • African shoestrings – South Africa Day Twenty-seven

    Our first stop was the “poor end of town” which in size is the smallest part of Soweto but also by far the most densely populated.
    We were taken into a small two room “house”.
    I say house loosely because it was no bigger than two decent size tin sheds found in any Australian suburb. This shack had two rooms, walls and a roof of corrugated iron and floors of metal panels on top of what was probably just mud. Looking around, every other ‘dwelling’ was the same with about two or three metres between them where vegetables were grown, washing was hung and occasionally a communal chemical toilet or a water tap was available.
    None of these places had running water, sewerage or indeed electricity. The only form of heat was a small wood burning stove also used for cooking.

    But the most remarkable thing about this shack were the tenants. Somehow a family of eleven lived here! Mum, Dad and nine kids aged between one and 20 years old.
    Mum told us that there’s no work for anyone much and because there’s no such thing as dole in South Africa, Dad picks up a little bit of money from “Piecework”, odd jobs here and there.
    She earns a little bit of money from telling fortunes and knitting and selling hats. Fortunately they don’t have to pay rent. Mum was surprisingly, articulate and intelligent. Why was I surprised? I don’t know, I had never met anyone in this position before.

    I was equally surprised that she was also cheerful, optimistic and quite accepting of her lot in life and happy to give us a first hand account. As we had in Lesotho we reflected on how much we have and how little these people have in comparison. In Lesotho it seemed different, they were poor but content. Here this was just a brave face and it’s so frustratingly close to not only white affluent suburbs but black ones too! This eventually got the better of us and we gave Nic some money later to pass on to this women who had been good enough to allow us into her home.

    Mother and child in Soweto in the shadows of Soweto's upmarket and large homes are residential tin shacks. Soweto, South Africa.
    Mother and child in Soweto in the shadows of Soweto’s upmarket and large homes are residential tin shacks. Soweto, South Africa.

  • African shoestrings – Lesotho Day Fourteen

    The next morning we awoke just before daylight after an eventful night.
    Thunderstorms had followed us there and dumped rain on us just as we arrived the day before. They had cleared for a while but came back overnight and the heavy rain found its way through the opening in the hut that passed for a window.
    Not only that but the front door seemed content to allow itself to be pushed around by the wind creaking or banging loud enough to wake us.
    This was also the first night that we had slept in our new super duper -2°C sleeping bags. Comfy they were, cold they weren’t. We both boiled and spent the night tossing the top off as we fried and then back on again as we froze a few moments later.

    So we awoke the next morning grouchy. I was ready to give that damn pony of mine a piece of my mind, if even it so much looked like going off the track. But events had already got ahead of me. Black Label had been demoted! David now rode him and I rode David’s steed Black Cat.

    Now Black Cat was my sort of horse, this bloke was strong, sure footed, docile and to my surprise obedient. He obeyed my every command, something I had never experienced in an animal, or come to think of it in a human, before.

    The journey back was, despite aching limbs, muscles and rear end, (I never realised how many muscles are used in riding), very pleasant.
    Gentle descends and ascends into valleys of green, cradled by perfectly formed grass covered hills and mountains of varying shapes and sizes.
    Occasionally we would see the odd cluster of thatched roofs in the distance, perched on a small plateau or down in a valley. Despite being kept at arm’s length from the villages we still saw plenty of traffic on the track.
    Unlike the hordes of pedestrians in South Africa these people seemed to have a destination or purpose for their travel. Men and boys on ponies were herding livestock; women on foot were carrying firewood or crops.

    Young Boy looks at the camera in a small village in Botswana
    Young Boy looks at the camera in a small village in Botswana

  • African shoestrings – Lesotho Day seven

    Malealea Lodge is at the top of a hill right next to Malealea Village. The lodge itself is a collection of chalets, huts, a dorm and a bar/store dotted among Pine trees and areas of brown lawn. Set to one side away from the other buildings, stood a colonial style house that the old man at the gate pointed us towards.
    There we managed to find Mick Jones with his feet up on the veranda overlooking the Malotti. Mick owns and runs Malealea with his wife Di. At the time, Mick stayed all the time at the lodge whilst Di ‘commuted’ to their office in Bloemfontain in South Africa.

    We watched Mick from our chalet veranda striding around and barking instructions at his employees in the local lingo, SeSotho, until the afternoon thunderstorms that had been threatening all afternoon, turned on a show.

    Thunderstorms are a way of life here. Incredibly more people die in Lesotho from lighting strikes than any other single cause. Which is really surprising considering the way they drive! I suppose the bottom line is that a country as poor as Lesotho, it’s one of the world’s poorest, doesn’t have that many cars but does have plenty of people travelling by foot. When you travel by foot in such a mountainous country the risk of getting struck by lighting is relatively high.

    That’s not to say that it’s unsafe to walk around Lesotho, it’s just some care is required during their thunderstorm season in the summer months.

    The spectacle of these thunderstorms is a show not to be missed, especially after dark.

    Watching this show brought home to us that we were actually living our dream. We were away from our home, family and friends travelling the world without a care, except that constant nagging fear of spending too much money. It was a great feeling and a place like this was what it was all about.

    Mother and Boy outside a hut, their home in the mountains of Lesotho
    Mother and Boy outside a hut, their home in the mountains of Lesotho

  • African shoestrings – Lesotho Day six

    Malealea Lodge is set in the quaintly called Valley of Paradise that’s about 2200 metres high.
    To get to it, after travelling on what can only be described as the ‘road from hell’, 13 kilometres of potholes loose rock and shifting gravel, you have to travel through the “Gates of Paradise”.

    This is a pass with such a beautiful vista, that a guy called Mervyn Smith left the words “Wayfarer Pause and Look Upon a Gateway of Paradise” inscribed on a plaque.
    Mervyn also founded the Malealea trading post so I guess you could accuse him of being a little bit one eyed.
    Even so the view is magnificent and gives the feeling that you are entering a secret valley of gentle rolling hills with a dramatic backdrop of mountains and storm clouds, hidden over the centuries by the locals from the mass commercialism of the white man.
    As we stood absorbed by all of this, one of those buses that can only be found in the third world, charged up the hill towards us and came to an abrupt stop amongst it’s own clouds of diesel fumes.
    This was the local bus stop and this vehicle was unloading some of it’s cargo of bags, people, children, chooks, goats and anything else that could hang onto the outside or be crammed into the interior, there were even two guys on the roof!
    Before I had time to point the camera it was off again, incredibly still jammed packed and leaving behind clouds of black smoke and some of the cutest kids that have ever been put on this earth.
    Three of these kids came up to talk us, which we thought was so nice until they stretched out the palm and asked for money or “sweets”.

    Young girl from Lesotho looking for her mother on a remote roadside.
    Young girl from Lesotho looking for her mother on a remote roadside.

  • Photo tip no 5 – revision

    So lets just recap on the first 4 tips: No 1. To grab a shot at any time keep your camera ON which, depending on what camera you are using, requires you to look at the camera manual.
    No 2. Turn off your flash! Again to do this check out your camera manual
    No 3. Set your camera to auto ISO and don’t be afraid to turn your ISO up even higher. Just make sure you’ve taken a few images at various settings to see how your model performs at high ISO’s
    No 4. Avoid Camera shake by using the viewfinder if fitted or if not, by tucking those arms in. Tip no 6 next week.

    Two boy monks playing In Zhongdian's Songzanlin Monastery near the border of Tibet and China ©2013 Nick Katin
    Two boy monks playing In Zhongdian’s Songzanlin Monastery near the border of Tibet and China ©2013 Nick Katin

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