As I write this, the extraordinary week of events around the Russian invasion of the Ukraine has grabbed our attention and our hearts.
Writing about our lives on the farm here in South Africa, where we are incredibly safe and have to go out of our way to follow the news, underscores how privileged we are.
I’m writing today anyway, with the recognition that life seeps through and draws us back to our immediate present and experiences, even when – perhaps especially when – the bigger world is harsh and difficult.
I believe we can hold both and so much more. We can recognize the horror of war, this specific war, and our desire to see and hold wonder and love close in our daily lives.
*****
There’s new life on the farm.
Last week, our foreman and housekeeper’s daughter came home from the hospital with her baby son.
Only 15, Bongiwe (‘bon-ghee-way’) was in boarding school in the nearby town when she got pregnant by another 15 year-old boy at the school.
We had only been back in South Africa a few days, it was pouring rain, and I was driving Phina (‘Fee-nah’), our housekeeper, and Sipho (‘See-poh’), our foreman, to their home about 1 km from the Lodge, when Sipho announced in Zulu, with gestures, that Bongiwe was pregnant.
Stunned, I asked “how do you feel about that?”
Phina replied: “Aiieee ma’am” and shook her head sadly.
It has been a tough road for the family. Phina grew up on the farm; her mother, unschooled during the apartheid era, was the housekeeper for the previous two owners. Phina went to school, and is proud to speak and write isiZulu, English and Afrikaans.
She has always been a devoted mother, eager to set her girls up for a good life, one better than hers. Her daughter, and now grandson, have thrown so much up in the air. Phina’s vision for her family is shifting onto unsteady soil.
It probably won’t surprise anyone that the sweet face of baby Olwethu (‘Ol weh two’) has significantly dimmed the memory of the angst and fear, and drama after the cesarean birth, and the ripped stitches, and infection which followed it.
Since Bongiwe can’t lift the baby – the move that had caused ripped stitches – she and the baby come daily to the Lodge with Phina and Sipho. She’s checked on frequently by her mother as she stays in one of the staff rooms.
We are working with the situation, being supportive, and being flexible because we can.
Bongiwe plans to return to school next January, and we all hope that she will graduate high school. That will put pressure on Phina, and possibly the baby’s father’s mother in town, to care for the child while Bongiwe is in school. We know that when we have more guests more frequently, having a little one under foot will be untenable.
But we aren’t there now.
In addition to sweet baby Olwethu, there’s a new kitten on the farm!
We have adopted a feisty stray, now named Mr. Meow. While hanging around the edges of the yard, he seemed very interested in humans, and especially in Bromi, the South African Farm cat who has lived here since he too was a kitten when we bought the farm.
At first we were sure “Meow” was female, and we gave ‘her’ a fancy name of “Zasendle Meisie Meow,” mixing isiZulu – zasendle meaning wild – Afrikaans – meisie meaning girl – and Meow, English to acknowledge how chatty she was. Then “she” turned out to be a “he”, and his official name is now Mr. Zasendle Meow, or Mr. Meow for short.
Bromi doesn’t love him (yet), and they spar regularly. Bromi hides in the flowers or the bushes when Mr. Meow follows him too closely, talking up a blue streak, wanting to play, and asking “are you my brother?”
Or so I imagine.
For the moment, and likely for a while, Mr. Meow will be an outdoor cat. He sleeps on a blanket on top of a milk crate just outside the kitchen door, and takes his meals and water bowl there.
Like Olwethu, he has brought a new batch of love to us all.
And last but not least, we went to a livestock auction a week and a half ago and returned – on purpose – with 20 pregnant ewes and an alpaca. Alpaca’s have been known to be fierce defenders of sheep and lambs against jackals and other predators that frequent our area.
Lambing should begin by March-end through April, and we’ll see how that unfolds. Fingers are crossed for easy births, healthy lambs, with no rejections leading to manual feeding, and of course, no predator interactions.
I’m looking forward to watching the lambs bounce about, as all young creatures do.
We call the ewes “the Ladies,” and the alpaca is now Al Pacacino. (There is a sort of resemblance with the actor!)
So, life at the farm is becoming richer, wider and deeper as we live into new aspects of a working farm. We – the Lodge – also hosted some paying guests this past month (yes!), which was hard work and lovely progress.
Now, with two months before we return to the US, we are starting to worry (again) about all the unfinished projects we will leave behind. And yet, we are confident they will wait for our return!
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