Let us see the cattle

It's rainy season. I haven't seen the mountains in a few days due to a heavy, misty fog that has settled on their tops. I'm pretty sure when the clouds lift and Metz Village has a good view of them again, everything is going to be green, green, green. From the door of my room it's going to look as though the mountains are covered in moss or algae of some sort... the grass is going to grow so the cattle are well fed.... the mangoes are going to get real big and juicy and will weigh down their branches until the wood finally snaps and they find themselves on the ground.. or yes, in my hands.
When I woke up this morning, I really debated on hanging out the clothes I had been soaking all night (yeah, I'm getting even more lazy with the washing... ). If I hung them out and the sky opened up and dumped rain... I would have a manageable, but fairly unpleasant situation on my hands. If I hung them out, there was a chance that they could all get somewhat dry. You gotta take chances. I finished all the scrubbing, washed all my dirty dishes, made my bed, hung the clothes on the line while a fine mist was a comin' down, and walked to catch my first taxi to town. It was a good little adventure. I met Christy and Zana at The Oaks (where all the taxis that go down the main tar road in our area drop people off at the taxi rank) and we ran into the Rapola Family heading to Bushbuckridge in their Venture. Auntie Rapola offered us a free ride and we gladly accepted... me smooshed in the front with Father and Mother of Phenyo, Christy and Zana in the middle seat with Auntie, and all the girls in the back singing and playing hand clapping games the whole way to Hoedspruit. Conversation was all over the place, what fruits do they grow in America? Doesn't American currency have something about God printed on it? How do you feel about Obama? Does it snow a lot that side? And then minutes later we were in front of the Wimpy, right smack in the middle of safari, tourist area... everyday so many exchanges, so many brief spurts of activity and snippets of conversations. Hoedspruit provided warm coffee and an omelet for breakfast. Good conversation between PC volunteers, that is special in itself.. a chance to be honest... to talk of frustrations, things that make your heart smile, feel totally accepted. A trip to the Pick 'n Pay for green vegetables. Greeting the friends from Zimbabwe who have become a part of every trip I take to town. And then the realization that there were no taxis at the rank. 2:30 on a Saturday. Seems everyone is trying to find rides.. and that although there is talk of taxis passing by to pick people up.... there are none in sight. We walked to a prime spot for trying to get a ride. We're offered one from our waitress from the coffee shop, but she would have to drive too far out of her way to get us near The Oaks. Less than 2 minutes later... with us talking and not stressing too much (cause everything works out eventually)... a car pops a U right in front of us and the two people in front ask where we're going. Yes, they are going that way. After that, everything just falls into place. They weren't from around the villages... were a little fearful of the idea that we live in the villages... were scared for our safety. We were dropped off at Mabins Cross. I bought some boiled peanuts and stood on the corner trying to get a taxi. One pulled up and denied me a ride all the way to Metz. A second pulled up, was heading that way, and for 15 minutes I sat in the middle of the front (back) seat with two men speaking little English in the front, shared boiled peanuts with them, and smiled to myself when "Every Time You Go Away" by Paul Young (Every time you go away, you take a little piece of me with you...) came on the CD they were listening to. "Mmapula this is your stop, Taposa, right?" Yes.. hauling broccoli, green beans, cheese, and other assorted goodies I walked up the main tar road in Metz, home to my little room. I took my clothes off the line... damp, but not as wet as before... and unpacked food. Rain began to fall just a few minutes later. Late afternoon, MmaDiapo came to discuss the travels to a funeral near Nkowankowa(a township near Tzaneen)and share with me two ripe, big bananas she'd gotten on her journey. She stood in the corner where my room meets Mabu's, just enough out of the misty rain, and we talked about how much life all the water would bring.
Mmapula: "MmaDiapo, do you think the cattle are uncomfortable in the rain? Do you think they think about it? I just think it would bother me to stand there with water constantly dripping down, not really having a choice to get to a drier place."
There was a pause, while she looked at me thinking... not like it was an unreasonable question, but like she wanted to give me a good answer.... and said, laughing...
MmaDiapo:"Oh no, no. They are fine with it... they have to be... it is their culture. The rain, the hot sun, the standing, the eating of grass and mealies... that is all part of their culture."
MmaPula: Looking through the burglar proofs (bars) and misty rain at the kraal where the cattle stays in the yard..."Yeah, I guess you're right.. it's part of their culture, it's what they know."