April 28 - 29

Maliba Lodge had a lot to offer. When we arrived we learned that we could take part in hiking through the grounds, pony trekking for a day or half day, a cultural visit to a nearby village and massages in a spa. The grounds were beautiful and I'm sure that a hike would have revealed more of the beautiful and varied landscape, but as soon as both of us heard that massages were available, all thoughts of physical activity vanished.

Breakfast was a made to order buffet and while we enjoyed the sun on the terrace, Gladys, the Assistant Manager and acquaintance of Phillip's joined us to answer many of the outstanding questions that still bothered Gila regarding he behaviour of the children in the highlands. Gladys was embarrassed and apologetic that we had experienced the begging. It was totally contrary to her own ethos. In her opinion, the whole situation had been a result of white tourists. Whenever they saw the children, they would stop to give them sweets. This set up the expectation that whenever white people were present, they would be given treats. Sometimes the cars would not even stop and the sweets would be thrown out the window for the children to scramble after. In Gladys's opinion this was very demeaning to he children. Parents didn't stop their children but rather conveyed the idea that the whites were rich and should be sharing their wealth in some tangible way.

Gladys believed that visitors to Lesotho had to be educated not to pass out sweets. Signs at the borders should be posted advising travellers not to treat the children. Gladys pointed out another problem with the practice. The normal diet of the Basotho was not heavy in sweets. The sugar in the treats handed out caused the children's teeth to decay and the parents had neither access to dental services nor the resources for dental work. Gladys told us that the children in her neighbourhood would never beg if she were present because they knew her attitude to it. Although Phillip and I disagreed, she saw no harm in Gila admonishing the children who were begging. We felt that as a visitor to the country she had to be more diplomatic.

Gladys then told us about how she distributed donated clothing to the children in the village. They were not given the clothes, but instead, were shown the reward for an hour's worth of cleaning up. Because they had worked for it, receiving the clothing was neither demeaning nor getting something without any responsibility. I thought the whole situation had been dealt with in the most sensitive manner. Gladys was an impressive young woman. 


After breakfast, Prudence, another employee of the lodge took us on a cultural tour of the nearby village. Our first stop was to the healer. Through Prudence, she explained how she relied on her ancestors for advice and healing powers, she explained the part she played in the traditional initiation of the young men when they were circumcised and she explained that the healer was consulted on every aspect of life. Gila asked for a remedy for her cold. She had some concoction but it was not fresh and she offered to prepare a fresh dose that could be picked up early the next morning. Unfortunately we were leaving very early and Phillip did not think that stop could be accommodated in our itinerary. For fifty rands , however, she tossed bones and other talismans to tell Gila her future. She made statements based on the position of the objects in the tossing of the bones and asked Gila to confirm whether or not the statement was true. Not surprisingly, her interpretations seldom rang true.

From the healer we were taken to the school. Three white people created quite a stir. It seemed to be a break time and most of the children, in uniform, were playing outside. The headmaster, a young man named Michael came out to greet us. The school sponsored by the Catholic Church, housed grades one through to seven in six classrooms.  The threes and fours were together in one classroom and taught by Michael. He had sixty-eight students in his class! Then he showed us a grade 3 workbook that was based on Christian values. It really varied little from reading workbooks I have used in our school system. We told Michael that we were former teachers and how similar the exercises in the workbook were to ones that we had used in our classrooms. We laughed at the problem solving questions. The content did not vary from what we did, needing to determine which operation to use to calculate the correct answer. The context was totally African.

The children were beginning to return to the rooms and so we asked permission to visit. The first room we entered was the grade one. The room seemed to have no lights depending on the sun for illumination. Instead of individual desks, the room was filled with tables and chairs that the children worked at. When we entered, all the children rose and in unison greeted us and asked how we were. It was obvious that this was not a new routine for them. Although it did not exactly respond to our greeting we learned that they were all very well thank you. From there we moved to the grade two room. Again we got the same unison greetings and responses. Gila looked at the art work posted on the walls while kookier at a math chart that defined mathematical symbols. I was quite surprised that such young children were learning the terms set and subset. That was well advanced compared to the children in the same grade at home. The children mugged around their tables while we took pictures of them, showing them the digital display after each shot. 

From there we visited Michael's class of sixty-eight children.  When they are all together it is a large and often unwieldy group to manage. The children crowded around us, all questioning us at the same time. Most of them were intent to get our names copied onto a page.  The excitement mounted as we photographed these children and let them crowd around us to see the results. At this point Michael asked me for a suggestion to establish and maintain class or in this case crowd control. He caught me totally off guard. I had not even considered that anyone would be interested in the strategies I had used a world away. The first idea I thought of was to use the clap and answer technique I had always resorted to. Clap out a rhythm and wait for the class to begin echoing it. Some of the children copied me right away but it did not take very long for the entire class to clap together, allowing Michael the opportunity to speak to them without needing to repeat himself or shout. He seemed very pleased with this new but simple tool. Before leaving Gila taught the class the rhythm of shave and a haircut two bits. She clapped the first part and expected the class to respond with the two bits part. It took some time for all the children to learn not to mimic us during the pause, but after a few minutes all of the children managed to understand that this was call and answer. With the class somewhat distracted and noisy, we left Michael with the hope that he would be using the new technique to get all the children to focus on what he was to say.

Our last stop was to the pub and beer brewing facility. We were shown how the beer was fermented and allowed to taste some of the completed beer. The cultural tour was to last one hour, but we had been guided by Prudence for more than two hours. It was time to return to the lodge for our meals and massage.

Prudence also gave the massages. I chose to have mine first while Gila had lunch. When I was done we reversed positions. The massage was in a building surrounded by beautiful gardens in which all the plants were identified. I had told Prudence that I preferred strong pressure so she used her fingers, hands and elbows to did into every muscle in my body, even including the head. When the massage was over, I realized that it had been a long time since I had been that relaxed. Gila enjoyed her massage as well and once we were both loose, we headed back to our rondavel to explore and rest before dinner. I hiked to the little waterfall and then for a ways along a hiking trail before I returned for a little nap. Gila sat by the waterfall painting a picture.

Our last dinner at Maliba Lodge was just as memorable as the first, mussels, sorbet cleanser, lamb shank and another sinful dessert. We each gave Prudence a tip for her services that day. She did not get any extra salary for the cultural tour or the massage. I also bought the jacket that all the staff was wearing, Get Lost in Lesotho. Phillip arranged boxed breakfasts and lunches and we went back to the rondavel on the early side to repack and prepare for another early departure.

This was now our last day on the Roof of Africa. We left the Lodge with the sunrise to reach the cultural centre at Liphofung. The centre had the caves in which the bushmen had made the very famous pictographs. To reach the site we had to climb a long way down to an area that was sheltered by an enormous overhang. This had been an area where in the past, well after the Bushmen, the royal family of the area had lived. There was a plentiful water and the areas for fire places were well defined. The pictographs were under another overhang. The work had not been enhanced and it was difficult to make out the figures without the explanation plaques that stood in front of each section of the cave. There were elongated figures hunting and magical figures with animal heads as well as the animals themselves. I had intended to buy some material with more information about the site, but because we still had to get back to Sani Lodge to catch our three hour shuttle to Durban that same day, we did not go into the gift shop.

Back at the top of the site were rondavels that depicted the way of life in the caves in the late nineteenth century. We saw the cooking utensils, the tools and weapons, the sleeping areas and the musical instruments these people used. I think the guide would have liked us to stay longer in this interpretation centre, but Phillip was very aware of the distance we still had to travel before the end of our adventure.

The rest of the day was spent traveling back up into the mountains to through the Monteng Pass another area with a fantastic view at over 3,000 meters. As we rode, we continued to marvel at the magnificent vistas that lay before us, rock formations, waterfalls, more terraced plantings, roads that wound back and forth through switchbacks and rivers that rush over rocks. Phillip pointed out areas with interesting backgrounds, the only ski area in Africa with three reservoirs that were used to make snow in the winter, the Kimberly diamond mines and the village built for the miners and Mokhotlong the most isolated outpost of the British Empire in the 1950s. The route was marked with rocky paths that were detours due to road construction. At one point we found ourselves back on a paved road and drove right into the middle of the construction. We had been directed in the wrong direction by a previous road crew. The road we were supposed to use was to the right about four feet lower. Instead of turning around to retrace our path, Phillip made use of the 4x4 to drive down a sixty degree incline to the lower road. It felt like part of a roller coaster ride. Our lunch stop was beside another river that we reached thanks to the off road abilities of the Land Rover.


By mid afternoon, we began to recognize the landscape close to the Sani Pass border crossing. The Chinese had made remarkable progress on the road in the past five days and although we could not yet drive on it, it was evident that driving through Lesotho would soon be possible without a 4x4 vehicle. Before driving back into South Africa, Phillip insisted on stopping at the Sani Mountain Lodge which had the highest pub in Africa. It was to be a half hour stop, but both Gila and I were anxious to push on so that we could begin the next chapter in our adventure and we left after taking the obligatory photographs of the valley from the heights of the pub.

We were back at Sani Lodge before five and I was hoping that we could reach our overnight destination in Durban by eight or eight thirty, but of course that was wishful thinking. Instead of taking a shower and relaxing before our shuttle ride, we spent the time re packing our bags. Mondli was to drive us this leg of the journey but he had been ill and passed the job on to his brother who claimed he knew where the 'hotel' was. It was a smooth uneventful drive until we reached the outskirts of Durban. At that point it became obvious that he had no clue as to where to find our destination called the Shapes of Africa. By now it was dark and we stopped in several places to ask for directions despite the existence of GPS in the car. Finally, I called the place and the driver with more exact directions was able to find our destination. it had taken a frustrating extra hour.

I had booked this location because it was the closest establishment to the airport, convenient because our flight was at 8:30 in the morning. Sometimes more information is helpful. The Shapes of Africa was a complex that was still a hold over from the 1960s surfer culture. The cabin was just two single beds, barely room for our suitcases and knapsacks. The bathroom was in the adjacent building was a psychedelic wonder. The toilet was painted in purples and the shower was lined with stones. I had expected to pay with my credit card but as I offered it, we learned that no cards were accepted. Gila and I were able to pool the rands we had left over to pay for the room, but we did not have enough for the ride to the airport. The easy going attitude I associate with the sixties prevailed. We were going to be taken to an ATM on our way to the airport. I was thankful that we were both to tired to carp about the accommodations and that we had a bed to sleep in before beginning the next chapter of our journey.