Berg Alert 2010

I wasn't there, so I am speculating a bit.

There is no doubt that we white folk with all our high tech gear are novelties to the Basotho, especially the kids. So I expect the kids to act up. Unless there is obvious trouble, take it in stride.

I too have been followed by Basotho dogs (they scatter when you lean over, the locals gooi stones at them), by Basothos with dogs, and by Basothos. I've never been harmed.

But I also try not to act like a white man. My tent blends, I do not wear bright clothing, I never use a light at night, I camp in unusual places, and never where I have been seen.

Only once was trouble up. Two men located me at Ntonjelana pass, they split up, one on each side of me, out of sight, and whisted to each other while following me. I recognized I was being cased. Luckily for me the mist moved in, I immediately turned 90 degrees uphill, hiked almost to the escarpment, made camp behind a large boulder, and of course, never used a light.

I point out that I RECOGNIZED trouble. (I also avoided confrontation.) Trouble is somewhat universal. Look for it. If you can't point to it on the nose, all is probably okay, even if you don't understand.

Once while heading from Lesotho to Bannerman cave, I passed three huts, and from each hut came a commotion, and a kid, a herder boy. I recognized their fathers had sent them to accompany me, for what reason, I could not fathom. They were chattering up a storm and walking with me. I speak no Sesotho, they no English, but I said to them, it's a free world, this is your country, and you are welcome. As I turned up the Bannerman drainage, there is a lovely pasture, that day with three lovely horses. And I understood.

It is completely outside their realm to walk for fun. They walk everyday of their lives out of necessity. In Basotho society, I would have taken ALL three horses - one for me, one for my huge pack, and a fresh horse. So their wise fathers sent them to make sure I didn't rustle the transportation! Of course, you know that first, it would have spoiled my hike, and second, I can't ride a horse, and third, bareback!

I just want to illustrate the chasm between our cultures.

I worry about my bakkie being parked in SA for any length of time, but in Lesotho I never worry. None of the herdsman or their kin can drive! Their horses are safe with me, my bakkie is safe with them, we cannot ride each other's vehicles!

When asking for the time, they have no idea what two o'clock means, they have no clocks. They are practicing the only English they know! Humor them! I've had kids poke their heads into my canopy. They are curious, not looking to steal. They have no use for most of my things!

I have cooked a meal for some young adults who asked me for food. I had extra, I was heading out, they looked famished, there was peace and they were grateful.

I once was lost looking for Tlanyaku Pass in the thick mist. As you know, Tlanyaku is not at the saddle, and I had never used it before. Frustrated, on the fourth day I hiked into Lesotho, found a hut by smoke, and was welcomed. I was offered mealiepap with raw milk, squeezed by an unwashed hand, which I refused politely. I was shocked that the hut had no chimney. To breathe one crouched below the level of the door. (Contrast that to the Tipi which has as its central innovation the chimney opening at the apex. All Native Americans use the chimney.)

The man spoke no English. He did not know the word "Tlanyaku". I made walking motions with my fingers, then made an "O" which I was careful to move from East to West, saluted and looked around, then covered my eyes, repeated three times, counting on my other hand. He understood, I recognized this man had wisdom, despite being an illiterate herder. Our first connection was "Champanyi". He did not know "South Africa", but when I said "KwaZulu-Natal", he excitedly repeated "Natali". He understood, and immediately began preparing. He ordered his son to gather the dogs, fed them mealiepap, damped the fire, and shut the door. Then we set off. I did not understand why his son was with us, but it's a free world - and their country! Not an hour later I stood at the pass.

I did a dance, dropped my pack, got out R20, and handed it to the old wise man, who thanked me. I put on my pack to depart, when the son, clearly on orders from his dad, held out his hands! Again I understood. I dropped my pack, took out another R10, and forked it over. I told you the old man was wise!

Let me point out that though you and I know the drainage divide is the border, this is outside Basotho geometry. For them, the only border that makes sense is the escarpment edge. So while I know I'm in South Africa, they think I'm in their country and act that way. Take it in stride.

One more story. Once at Tlaeng Pass, a group of about 20 Basotho teens surrounded my bakkie. I had the remnants of a coke, long since fizzed out, but I noticed they were looking at it, so I gave it. Forty hands reached for it, and it went skyward, handed in succession like a rare jewel. This was the first time they had ever tasted this really horrible drink (I'm an addict) and I hope they wondered what all the fuss is about. One of them spoke a reasonable English, and the questions started. I am from America. Your wives are in America? No, I am not married.

Now this was stunning to them. Here I was, rich beyond their dreams - I owned a car and was trained to drive it - how could I be unmarried? I should have 19 wives! But maybe my wife is dead. So they tried again. Your children are in America? No, I have no children. I think they thought there was a mistranslation. This is completely outside of their comprehension. They have nothing to hang this on.

Then we went through the domestic animals. No, no cows. No horses, no sheep, no donkeys, no goats.

According to me, these are the poorest people I've ever met.

But, according to them, I was the poorest man they ever met!

And I am humble enough to understand that their world-view has validity. Perhaps their view - a world of human relationships - is superior to mine - a world of money, and possessions.

So just keep in mind the chasm between our cultures, trust that whatever happens that you don't understand is probably okay.

We recently returned from a 5 day hike. We departed and returned via Injasuthi. A long first day brought us about 1km short from Keith Bush Camp. We set up camp, intending to accend via Grey's the following day. Rain and mist hindered these plans, so we stayed a another day. It was during this period that we observed two smugglers coming from Greys towards us. They had their sacks on their backs, and rested and observed us from about 300m away, accross a fast flowing stream (we battled with the crossing a bit ourselves, and even helped a family returning from KBC) After a while, they got up, and the last we saw of them through binos, was when they seemingly went back up the pass! They were obviously keen on avoiding us (we had 4 tents up and it looked like a HQ of sorts!) Good weather returned and we went up Grey's, camped and walked the escarpment to the top of Lesleys. We were planning on camping and walking back to Injasuthi in one long haul. The presence of summer grazing shepards did make us decide to rather head down the pass. We were not keen on being pestered. (BTW are these outposts abandoned in winter?) The head of Lesleys is right opposite a small hut, rock kraal with more down the valley. We could not go unseen. Whistles and livestock hurriedly being herded along indicated to us that we may get visitors at some stage. We saddled up and headed towards the pass. At this stage we had not been approached by the basuthos. We were about 100m down the pass when against the horizon riders on ponies appeared. They had obviously noticed that we were not going to set up camp and were heading down the pass. They shouted at us asking where we were going etc, with the usual requests for sweets etc. Camping unnoticed, especially in summer when lush valleys are grazed is not easy. I am not aware of any incidents along here (top of Lesleys), but if there have been, I will be grateful to hear for future reference. Unfortunately we spent an extra day below Greys, curtailing our initial plans to stay in Upper Injasuthi for our third night. Better luck/weather next time... Autumn I think!

Let me point out that though you and I know the drainage divide is the border, this is outside Basotho geometry. For them, the only border that makes sense is the escarpment edge. So while I know I'm in South Africa, they think I'm in their country and act that way. Take it in stride.

So simple, so sensible and yet i've never ever thought of it like that. Must be the altitude .

I thoroughly enjoyed your post, bbharim. Thanks! Hope you write a book one day!