Ode to a Karoo village
A month ago when I arrived in Cape Town, someone warned me that being out in a desert village in the Karoo, in the middle of the summer wasn’t such a bright idea for somebody like me, coming from a dark, wet, cold and highly developed city in the heart of Europe.
But I quickly waved her remark away, without giving it much further thought.
Now, a month later, I realise that she knew what she was talking about.
All the things that I take for granted coming from the ‘big city’ and that are familiar to me, are simple not here.
The list of annoyances is long; remoteness, 43 degree heat, powercuts and therefore no wifi or whatsapp, no phone connection for nearly a week, weird animal noises, no access to friends, no fancy supermarket, snakes, no TV, no company, biting insects, no international newspaper (except a day old local newspaper), no shopping, petty crime and the list just goes on.
For me, it’s quite unthinkable to live somewhere that offers me so little choice as here, with just 1 butcher, 1 place to buy cheese, 1 pharmacy and a total absence of many other possible ways to spend money.
So in the first few days here in Prince Albert, I found myself driving 183kms to get to a supermarket that sold most of the things that were familiar to me. So I stocked up on lots of plastic packaging, consisting of foreign grapes, indian-style sauces that were produced abroad and industrially produced sliced white bread.
Driving back to the village, for another 183kms, through the unending open Karoo plains, glimmering with heat and saluting a tortoise and lots of ostriches on the way, I started realising that my plastic shopping bags in the back of the car, full of ‘familiar stuff’, didn’t actually make me any ‘happier’ at all.
Even though the remoteness, the heat and the dust is harsh and draining, it’s actually a blessing in disguise.
It’s the people here that make the difference. They create this unique tiny microcosmic community.
And they are the reasons for loving it.
When the butcher turns me away because he has no lamb mince today but that he will debone an entire leg of lamb tomorrow for me and mince it, that makes me smile. When I report my stolen shoes to the local police woman, she says she will get her mother in law on the case, because she knows everyone, that makes my heart sing. When the local doctor invites me for a coffee at his home, that relieves me from any anxieties. When you find a bag of cookbooks with a handwritten note on your doorstep, that fills me with joy.
And when people embrace you by sharing their life’s story with you, that is when you start to appreciate what you have, here and now, and that’s when real happiness begins …
Prince Albert is a gem.
