Sunday, October 11, 2009

The Village

Okay, so I am defiantly NOT a hippie!
So this place is nothing like I have ever experienced and whilst I am in it, it does not seem crazy. Until I go to bed and recall my day and I think, “what the hell?!”
Let us start with the building I am living in. The fridge makes these sounds as though it is frothing milk for a cappuccino. It was very unnerving at first. But the dozen or so geckos that are kick’n it on the walls doesn’t seem to mind, for they just hang out and eat the large mosquitoes.
Good thing there is no light in the bathroom otherwise, I would have to look at the fact that the damn hot water handle always falls off when I go to adjust the boiling water that pours out. The candle in the bathroom seems to do the trick, until the steam fills the room and loosens the wax from the plate that it sits on, falls and then “POOF” darkness again.
The aroma of soft, wet old wood fills all corners of the house and the only way to escape it is step into the tropical forest that is just on the door step. Not even Victoria Secrets “Love Spell” can cover it up. Yes, I brought one bottle of body spray.
But I never thought I was would be so happy to return to this place after a night in the “Village” where I got this grape seed oil massage from a local. I will get to her in a second…
All 7 of us plus overnight gear, piled in this red Nissan truck that needed to be push started. That was the fun part. Getting my eye almost poked out by the antenna that is still trying to get reception for a nonexistent radio as I hopped in the front passenger seat that had a broken down box for a seat cover was not so fun.
We had only brought food for dinner Friday and breakfast Saturday for we needed to return by noon to get ready for a party Saturday night. I did not bring a jacket to the village, little lone on this entire trip because it’s South Africa. It’s hot here during their summer. Wrong I was…
After dinner, we all took note as to who was going to sleep where. I decided not to share the bed with 4 others in a room where the door does not close all the way. This door, as all the doors in the homes of rural South Africa, goes to the outside. I decided to share a bed with the Pippa, the pregnant gal who started the school, in the house right next door. When I say, “right next door”, I mean a small bush separated the two.
I felt somewhat safe in the mud built hut house. It had electricity that worked sporadically but somehow managed to keep going after I fell asleep watching TV for I woke up to my earplugs being overtaken by the sounds of a woman’s moans of pleasure. There I was in bed with a pregnant white woman in a mud hut in the middle of rural South Africa listening to porn!!! I did not look from under my blanket for I was cold and I was unsure if the pregnant woman was still awake, so I had to listen to the whole damned thing! The best part was that the next show that came on after the porn was some kid movie from back in the day. That is when the pregnant woman woke up and turned off the TV. Needless to say, I got no sleep.
I woke up with my neck sore. It had rained all night which meant no electricity for the house or the truck. Furthermore, which meant we were cooking nothing and going nowhere. Very hungry we walked over to a friend of the pregnant lady. This place was really amazing. They started this thing they call the “Project” where they teach people to live a sustainable life style and provide for themselves. Ironically, we needed them to cook our food.
We stayed there for the morning and it was said that we may need to stay there one more night. This worried me for we had no food. The others were a bit uneasy as well. But I played my guitar and hoped that all would work out and we would get out of there. Four o’clock had past and still no word as to our fate for the night. We, including the friends at the “Project”, needed to be at a surprise party at 7:30. We were not going to make it.
All of a sudden, a lady from the village came by. She had heard about my kinked neck and her trade was massage therapy. I was so thrilled. I asked her how much she said “whatever”, which ended up being a lie but I went for it.
She told me to take off all my clothes. Now remember, it’s cold and I am in a mud hut with broken windows and translucent curtains. But also remember, I am down with anything! So there I was in my panties with village massage therapist pouring grape seed oil on a plate in the middle of rural South Africa. Surprisingly it was great. I had an hour massage for only 25 dollars. And the best part, when I was getting my clothes on, someone said that we had a ride into town and we were leaving just then! I was so relieved. We got back to the gecko filled house, took a shower and made it to the surprise party by 7:30!! As I have always learned, things always work out and that mentality has gotten me through some of the scariest, uneasy situations. So it makes me feel good when they do work out
So why am I not a hippie??? Well there were some people at this party with dreads, tie-die, and Pocahontas attire that danced around the fire to crappy high energy techno in a fog of doobie smoke. As our group soon found it was not our crowd we left and it began to rain. I guess the rain dance worked.
I am a hippie at heart, adventurer at the soul and I beat at my own drum.


  1. Great story Domina...sounds like a wild day...yet relaxin'.~sher

  2. that sounds like a blast to me.I guess any thing at this point sounds great. Suburban house wife stuff is way boring. you have to take me there some day. do share more!
    love sis