“I’m glad to hear that.”
Natalie looked forward to Candrick’s arrival at work. He’d always have a joke or two at the ready and they’d laugh together like kids. Sometimes one of the others would come in to see what the commotion was about but she’d long since given up worrying what they thought.
When she needed an interpreter on the ward she’d take Candrick along. He was far more useful than the nurses who put their own spin on everything. The two of them worked the cases together and learnt from one another. Despite his youth, Candrick was wise beyond his years. Though he never said anything, she knew he found the childish arrogance of the other social workers as tedious as she did.
They got into the habit of having lunch together or ducking into one of the coffee shops of an afternoon. They were sitting in a quiet corner, when Candrick declared, “It’s eat or be eaten in this country, just like the animal kingdom. You have to take the upper hand before the other person does.”
While Candrick sipped the coffee in his mug, Natalie reflected on the recent meeting between hospital and council social workers, aimed at determining who was responsible for burial of unregistered paupers. A heated argument had ensued in which it appeared to be a competition as to who could shout the loudest and snipe best at those on the other side. Fed up with the carry-on, she’d finally told them to stop acting like children and show some maturity. That had stopped them in their tracks. She’d been intrigued, after the meeting, to see them laughing and joking together like old mates over coffee and cakes.
With only a week left until the end of Candrick’s placement, Natalie was dreading his departure. “I’m going to miss you,” she told him one morning.
“I’m going to Kasane this long weekend to look after my mother’s house while she visits my father. Would you like to come along? The maid will be in the house so it will be all above board.”
“What a lovely idea. We can drive there in my car.”
Natalie was waiting at the arranged meeting place, a corner not far from where Candrick lived when she was approached by a stranger. “Do you need directions?”
“No, I’m right, thanks. I’m waiting for a friend.”
“Where are you going?”
“Kasane.”
“What’s your friend’s name? I know all the white women who live around here.”
At that moment Candrick arrived. He threw his duffle bag onto the back seat and climbed in beside her.
“Is this your friend?” asked the stranger.
Natalie nodded, bemused by the look on his face.
“He thinks we’re having an illicit affair,” said Candrick, laughing.
She smiled. “Trust him to think like that.”
Their spirits were high, cocooned together in the car with the whole weekend ahead of them. Natalie drove through the suburbs with their boring government houses and headed along the highway through the dry planes. She switched on the air conditioning. “I love to hear about your culture. I hope you’re going to tell me more while we’re driving.”
“Only too happy to. Unlike western society, the integral unit in Botswana is neither the individual nor the family. It’s the village, which is deemed to have responsibility for a person’s care. The village of origin is the place to which people return if they need help.”
“That explains why patients give a village address when they actually live in town. I’ve always found that confusing.”
“Unlike the focus you have on personal development, our focus is on obligation. A person is expected to contribute whatever skills they possess for the benefit of the whole village, whether it’s thatching a roof, tending crops or caring for children.”
"Now I understand why people always say, ’It’s your responsibility.’"
“A person’s status in the village is of prime importance. P.H.D. (put him down) is used in an attempt to elevate a person’s status.”
“That sounds vicious, but it does make sense of the way I’ve been treated since I arrived. I was told in my pre-placement training that we had to try to fit in with the local culture.”
“Fitting in here and surviving means learning to stand up for yourself and taking the lead before other people take over.”
“It doesn’t make it a very friendly place to live.”
“When everyone lived in a village it worked well. The rules were clear and the elders were in control. A woman was seen as a servant, expected to meet the needs of her husband and his village when she moved to live with him. That’s why the man’s family paid the woman’s family with cattle, as compensation for services lost. A woman, in effect, married a village, not just an individual. With most young women no longer living in the village, payment doesn’t make sense. Instead, it creates a huge financial burden, as well as demeaning women, who no longer want to be treated like servants. It’s why so many couples live together without being married.”
“Do you think this has influenced the level of domestic violence?”
“I certainly do. It’s a recent thing, associated with people’s break away from their villages and the erosion of the influence of tribal elders. Young people, living in towns, with their good jobs resent having to send money to their village. They prefer to go their own way and often express their new-found power through violence.”
After several hours driving along a straight, sealed road through monotonous countryside, they came to Kasane, situated beside the river, and ascended a hill to arrive at Candrick’s mother’s house, one of the usual concrete block government supply. Natalie stepped out of the car, relieved to discover they’d escaped the overpowering heat of the plains. Stretching her tired muscles, she breathed in the fresh air. Here the grass was green, the bracken abundant and trees heavy with foliage. It wasn’t like the Africa she was familiar with.
The maid came out of the house to greet them and Candrick did the introductions. He opened the boot and lifted Natalie’s suit-case out, turning to her, a sympathetic expression on his face. “Would you like a hot bath, Natalie?”
“No thanks. I just want to walk around for a while and explore the area. Everything here is so beautiful.”
“Sure, Natalie. We can do that.”
Candrick dropped the luggage inside before joining Natalie. They ambled, side by side, to the end of the road in silence. Natalie looked down into the valley, where the township of Kasane nestled beside the huge, brown Chobe River. Candrick headed off along a narrow track through overgrown bracken and trees and Natalie hastened to catch up. All was quiet except for the sound of undergrowth brushing against their clothes and the occasional bird call. Natalie’s steps became lighter as the magic of the bush seeped through her veins. Glaring light made her blink as they left the bush to walk out onto a cleared area. A park? She could see three workmen ahead, busy with their tools. Two had thrown their shirts aside and sweat ran down their backs. It wasn’t until they got closer she realised they were digging a grave. Candrick nodded a greeting as they passed. “Graves are dug by villagers here. Funerals represent an important ceremony with huge amounts of food laid out. The number of mourners in attendance indicates a person’s status. Poor attendance is a reprisal for a person’s failure to contribute to village life.”
On their return they found the maid seated on a wooden chair in front of the house with two of her friends plaiting her hair. After a quick ‘hello’, they went inside. The aroma of stew foretold a pleasant meal to come. “I might just have that bath now, if it’s OK, Candrick?”
He led her to a small, dingy bedroom, where her case lay on the bed. “The bathroom is at the end of the corridor. I’ll turn the taps on for you, while you prepare.”
The warm water soothed her tired muscles. What a relief to escape the pressure of the hospital with everyone trying to outdo each other. I’m never going to fit in there. It was so lonely being an outsider in another culture. She’d wanted to help but the local people had friends and family and knew how to get by. For her, it was a str
uggle getting through each day to return to the isolation of the empty house.
The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted down the corridor. Natalie hastily dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and joined the others in the kitchen. The maid stacked the bread she had cut onto a plate. Candrick carried it to the dining room table while the maid dished out the stew. The three of them sat around the table, chatting cheerfully about the comings and goings in Kasane. When they finished eating, Candrick led Natalie into the lounge room, leaving the maid to clean up the kitchen. He walked over to the stereo and put on a record while Natalie relaxed into a comfortable chair. The gentle background music, the carpeted floor and the family knick-knacks decorating the room made it feel like a proper home, so different from her own. The maid, on completion of her tasks, did not join them, as Natalie had expected, but retired to her room.
She looked across at Candrick. “Do you know how to plait hair?”
“I think so.”
“Will you plait mine?”
He nodded. She plonked herself down on the carpet in front of him. The muscles of his legs were firm against her shoulders. Yet, when he touched her head, the caress was gentle. She had no idea what he was doing with her hair but the ecstasy of his touch penetrated her whole body. He’s a student. I shouldn’t feel like this. It was impossible to pull away. Instead, she remained, still and silent, surrendering her whole being to the pleasure he gave.
“How’s that?” he finally asked.
She got up and went to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. Her hair obviously wasn’t meant for African plaits. She returned to the living room, where they both laughed before going to their separate rooms for the night.
The next morning, Natalie and Candrick were back in the car, ready for sight-seeing. She was eager to get going but they’d only travelled a few hundred metres before they were stopped by five mature and two baby elephants crossing the road. This’s different, right near the houses. Despite Candrick’s warning, Natalie leapt out of the car to take a photo. With no further interruptions, they soon reached Victoria Falls. Leaving the car in the parking area, they walked along a track toward the look-out, their voices drowned out by a roaring sound, like a train, fast approaching. But no, when they reached the lookout, Natalie realised it was the sound of torrents of water surging over the precipice and crashing onto rocks hundreds of feet below. Spray wet her face and clothes, as she gaped at the falls, open-mouthed. Two rain-bows stretched across in front of the sparkling white water. The falls extended so far across the valley that it was impossible to see the other side from where they were standing.
They walked across the bridge separating Zimbabwe from Zambia and down a dusty road. Local people, in drab, worn apparel reached out to them with fruit and carvings for sale. “We’ll have a look on our way back,” Natalie called. The roar of the falls grew louder as they proceeded. A sign pointed to a track leading to an island in the middle of the river. They both put on their raincoats, as friends had advised, and proceeded along the track. Though it wasn’t cold, she shivered as water battered against the plastic and drenched her hair. Is it raining? She looked up to the sky but everything was shrouded in a thick mist. As she continued, she realised it was spray, as heavy as pouring rain, drifting up from below. Enveloped by the thundering water, Natalie felt part of the falls. If all these droplets of water can combine to create something so awe-inspiring, what might be achieved by an identical number of people combining in co-operation?
They returned to the township of Victoria Falls, where they pottered around the souvenir shops. Throngs of carefree tourists surrounded them, nattering away in different languages, many of them from tourist buses parked beside the Victoria Falls Hotel. For a moment she envied them, wishing she could join a tour where someone would look after her and make all the decisions. No, I’m lucky to be with Candrick. They stopped for lunch in the Whimpy Bar courtyard. “Hamburgers, just like home. That’s what I’ll have.”
Candrick sat at the plastic table beside her, struggling to find a place for his long legs. “I’ll have the same.”
Natalie ordered and paid for the meal, which soon arrived. As she sucked her coke through a straw, she looked across at the people at the next table, chatting away in a foreign language. “Where do you think they come from Candrick?”
“Mm, Germany.”
“Dare you to ask them.”
He took up the dare. He was wrong but at least they knew they were Dutch now. Then it was her turn, with the people at the table on the other side. She was wrong too.
After lunch, they drove to a sign they’d noticed earlier, ‘Big Tree’, where a walking track led into the jungle. Natalie raced ahead. “Let’s see who can find the big tree first.” Thick, tropical vegetation wrapped itself around them. Roots crisscrossed the track. She slowed down, a big game hunter in darkest Africa, creeping along the track in search of wild animals. Candrick took off along a side track, grabbed a vine hanging from one of the trees, and swung toward her, bellowing like Tarzan. Natalie continued, listening for animals. She could hear movement ahead, almost drowned out by wind in the upper boughs. “Look, Candrick.” Through the undergrowth, she could just make out an elephant drinking from a nearby stream.
“Not too close, Natalie.” Determined to take a photo, she sneaked forward. The elephant raised his head, looked directly at her and trumpeted. Candrick’s right. She beat a hasty retreat and followed him back along the track to the car, still no wiser as to the big tree.
That evening, after dinner, Candrick brought her a freshly made pot of tea on a tray and they settled down together to work on a crossword Candrick had found in the newspaper.
The next morning they drove to Chobe National Park, where Natalie parked beside the office. She threw open the car door, leapt out and rushed into the forest, forcing her way through the undergrowth. Candrick dragged along behind. Monkeys and baboons swung from trees, shy impala slunk away and elephants and buffalo roamed along the opposite river bank. Natalie looked around. “C’mon Candrick, catch up.”
A few long strides and he was with her. “Sorry Livingstone, to hold you up.” They trekked along the river bank watching flocks of squawking birds take flight as they approached.
Natalie stopped, gasping. Their way was barred by a predator. A huge crocodile lay across their path. Suddenly, it turned and slid into the water. “That was a close shave, Stanley.” The sound of a motor caught her ear. She looked up to see a tourist boat approaching. Waving wildly at the gazing crowd, she called out, "Dumela."
The guide, crazed with anger, shouted back, threatening them with his fist. “You have no right to be there.”
Time to make a hasty retreat.
They were both puffing by the time they reached the car park. A uniformed park officer, wearing a very stern face was waiting for them. “Come inside immediately. Can’t you read the signs? ‘Stay in your car.’ How can you be so stupid? This place is full of wild animals. You put yourself at risk. It’s people like you who make my job impossible.”
Natalie looked at him demurely. “I’m sorry for spoiling your day.”
“You must pay the entry fee. You’ve been here for hours.”
“Oh no, only a short time, but I’m happy to pay. How much would you like?” Natalie starting rummaging through her handbag for her purse.
The officer snapped his book shut. “Be on your way. If I see you out of the car again, I’ll call the police.”
By the time they’d got into the car, Natalie was wrestling to stifle her giggles. She looked across at Candrick, whose face was deadly earnest. “You aren’t bothered by what happened are you?”
“No, just a better actor than you.”
The return trip to Francistown was through the forests and rolling hills of Zimbabwe to the second largest town of Bulawayo. Resembling Harare in layout, with its stately Victorian architecture and parklands, beautified with huge, old English trees, it was a real city, a far cry from the row upon row
of identical, government houses that characterised Francistown. However, with a need to cross the border before it closed for the night, they had no time to dally.
After Candrick returned to Gaborone, she received two short letters from him, but their ways had parted and the magic had gone. Francistown was a drab, old place without him. Though she benefited from the cultural insights he’d provided, life dragged and she was glad when the time came for her to leave. Though she’d continued to write regularly to Chris, he still hadn’t replied. Hopefully, once she was back, she’d find a job and a home for them both and all would be well.
Chapter 57
1984
It was strange to be back in Sydney with all the hustle and bustle. People rushed about like ants building nests, preoccupied with their own tasks, oblivious of others. She didn’t belong here, any more than she did in Africa. This is all too much. I need to go somewhere quiet and work out what I’m going to do. She purchased a campervan from a used car yard, stocked it up with what she needed for the trip, and headed into the country-side, south-west, through Mittagong, Gundagai, Yass and Wagga Wagga, finally reaching the small town of Narrandera, where tall, leafy trees lined the streets. Their branches waved in the breeze, coaxing her to stop for coffee and cake in one of the old-fashioned cafes. Natalie sat down at an outside table, stretching her legs thankfully. The warmth of the sun penetrated her arms, her whole body relaxing after the tension of the long drive. She shut her eyes from the glare of the sun.
“What do you want?”
Startled, she looked up at the untidy-looking waitress and ordered cappuccino and cake. Natalie looked around. People with uncombed, scruffy hair and outdated, crumpled clothes, meandered about, stopping to chat with one another before moving about two metres and repeating the process with someone else. It reminded her of a chess board with all the slow moves and apparent lack of progress. There was obviously no urgency to life here. Her coffee and cake arrived. She drank slowly, savouring the sweet taste, before picking up a discarded newspaper from the chair beside her. The news was all local, focusing on school sporting fixtures and fund-raising. The classified section had little of interest either, until a large advertisement for a social worker/psychologist caught her eye. The local health centre needed a counsellor.
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